


Vita Brevis

by therebelliondies



Category: Hunger Games (2012), Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-01-07
Updated: 2016-04-24
Packaged: 2017-11-24 00:25:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 70,027
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/628195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/therebelliondies/pseuds/therebelliondies
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Life is short, the art of healing is long. Katniss Everdeen is a nurse at Capitol Memorial, caught in the stress of her job and coping with her mentally-ill mother. Doctor Peeta Mellark could be just the prescription to heal her soul. And perhaps he needs her just as much.</p><p>Modern Day AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**_Vita Brevis_ **

****

_Vita brevis,_

_Ars longa,_

_Occasio praeceps,_

_Eperimentum periculosum,_

_Iudicium difficile._

_Life is short,_

_the art of healing is long,_

_opportunity fleeting,_

_experience perilous,_

_and decision difficult._

****

_4 Years Old_

 

            “Mommy isn’t feeling well today, Katniss.” Daddy tells tiny, brown-haired Katniss Everdeen as he helps her into her red coat. She loves her red coat and she loves it when Daddy takes her someplace special, just the two of them. “We’re going to go to the zoo so she can sleep.”

            The innocent, little girl smiles up at Daddy as he takes her hand, leading her to his old truck, the one that still has a cassette player in it. He always lets her choose which tape they listen to, and she always chooses the one with a funny looking skull holding a rose. He likes to sing to that one and she likes hearing Daddy sing.

            “Is Mommy sick?” Katniss asks as he buckles her into the car in her special seat. 

            “Mommy is just very tired today,” he answers, brushing a hand over her dark hair.  He tried his best to braid this morning, but Daddy can’t do it like Mommy does so it’s very messy.  It’s been messy every day for a very long time now.

            Katniss nods solemnly in understanding. Mommy gets very tired sometimes and doesn’t come out of her room for a many, many days. Daddy talks to Mommy very quietly when she gets tired like this, but Mommy never answers. Katniss sometimes sneaks into her room and sits next to her. She likes to brush her hand through her mother’s pretty yellow hair. Mommy doesn’t talk to her either, but sometimes Katniss likes to pretend what she might say when she tells her stories about the day.

            Katniss picks the music and Daddy sings the entire way to the zoo. His voice is so very pretty that she hardly notices the hum of the truck’s old engine as his deep, baritone voice fills the cab. When Daddy parks the car, Katniss unbuckles her seat all by herself while he walks around to open her door.

            Putting his hands on her hips, he prevents her from jumping out of the truck for a minute. “You know I love you very much, right Katniss? And Mommy loves you so, so much too.”

            “I love you too, Daddy,” Katniss giggles, reaching up and wrapping her arms around his neck. He lifts her out of the car and carries her through the parking lot. Mommy would say she’s too big for him to carry, but today it’s just Daddy and her, so he does it anyway.

            “You want to go see the reptiles first, right Katniss?” Daddy asks her with a grin that makes the dimples in his cheeks appear and the corners of his eyes crinkle.

            She wrinkles her little nose at the suggestion. “No!”

            She laughs and he does too. He knows that the snakes and lizards aren’t her favorite animals to see at the zoo. She knows he doesn’t like them best either. Both Everdeens have always had a fascination with the big cats- the tigers and leopards and lions and cougars.

            “Oh, well, I guess we could go visit the snow leopards this morning, if you really want,” Daddy shrugs, bouncing Katniss on his hip playfully as he heads in the direction of the Big Cats exhibit.

            Katniss loves spending days like this with Daddy. He works a lot but he always tries to make time for her on the weekends, which is why, even at the tender age of four, the weekend is already her favorite part of the week.

            They spend the morning watching the lazy cats wander around their pens, rolling in the early sunlight and chewing on the bones of their breakfast. Katniss holds Daddy’s hand the entire time, not because she’s afraid of getting lost because she has always been independent for a child of her age, but because she misses the gentle, warm feel of his skin against hers when he’s not there.

            By the time they get home, the sun has already started its descent in the sky. Katniss can barely keep her eyes open and Daddy tucks her under a blanket on the couch, whispering against her hair. “Take a nap, Katniss. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

            She drifts off quickly, the sound of his soft footsteps lulling her into a sweet, dreamless sleep as he leaves the room.

            “Lily!”

            Through a sleepy haze, Katniss wonders why Daddy is shouting. He is never one to shout, even when she gets in trouble. She buries her face against the soft cushion of the couch, not ready yet to wake up after the exertion of the morning.

            “Lily! What did you do, sweetheart?”

            Her eyes crack open against the late evening light at the frantic tone of her father’s voice. Katniss doesn’t think Daddy has ever sounded quite so afraid before, his voice cracking and shaking as he continues to speak more quietly to Mommy, but it doesn’t stop his voice from reaching her downstairs.

            She crawls off the couch, carrying the blanket with her up the stairs to stand outside her parents’ bedroom.

            “Lily, how many did you take?” Katniss watches as Daddy fumbles around on the bedside table, his trembling hands lifting the little orange bottles one after another until he finds an empty one. “Lily, how many were left, dear?”

            Mommy doesn’t answer him, staring blankly into the space between them instead. She looks strange; her lips are a funny color. Daddy looks so scared as he shakes her shoulders that it makes Katniss scared too. She doesn’t understand why she feels so cold all of the sudden. She doesn’t know why she can’t get her legs to move her tiny body into the room to stand next to him, to pat his hand like she usually does when he’s upset.

            So instead, she does the only thing she can think to do- the very thing she is best at- she stays very quiet and huddles down against the doorframe, wrapping the blanket around her in hopes that it might help warm her. She doesn’t want to distract Daddy, but she doesn’t want to be alone anymore either.

            Katniss wishes very much that she could be braver; that she could help her daddy and her mommy, but she’s just so very afraid. She doesn’t understand why Mommy is so quiet tonight. Even on her worst nights she will sigh or look at Daddy. She wishes that Mommy would say something, anything, to him so he might not be so scared anymore.

 

\---

 

            “Just remember that Mommy is sick right now, Katniss, so she might not want to talk very much, okay?” Katniss nods, swinging her hand in her father’s as they walk through the long hallways of the hospital, at least Daddy told her this is a hospital. She’s not quite sure since this place doesn’t look much like hospitals she sees in her picture books.

            It’s been a long time since that day at the zoo; long enough that Katniss had to turn the calendar that hangs above the phone, the one that Mommy uses to write appointments on. The men in the ambulance came and took Mommy away that day in a flurry of voices and flashing lights. Katniss has noticed how sad Daddy has been since then and she hopes Mommy will come home soon.

            A big man unlocks the door and lets them into a giant living room. Katniss spots Mommy right away, sitting on a couch with her legs tucked under her. She tugs nervously at one of her dark, messy braids that Daddy fixed her hair in, suddenly shy at the sight of her mother. Mommy is wearing light blue pajamas that Katniss doesn’t recognize but she doesn’t think Mommy has ever looked prettier.

            “Hello, Katniss,” Mommy smiles, holding out her arms so she can wrap her in a hug. Her tummy flips happily. She hadn’t realized just how much she missed Mommy and her voice and her touch.

            “Hi, Mommy,” she grins back toothily. Mommy doesn’t look very sick anymore. Maybe she’ll be home again soon.

            “How was your day?” Mommy asks, nestling Katniss to her side.

            She immediately begins to tell her mother about how Daddy took her to the park where there is an ice skating rink right now. She likes the way Mommy smiles easily. She missed her mommy’s smile and she missed the way Mommy is holding her now. Katniss makes a silent promise that she will try extra hard to be good so as not to make Mommy sad so she won’t leave again. She wraps her tiny arms tighter around Mommy’s waist in hopes that this might be able to keep her with them forever.

 

\---

 

_Present_

            “You’re quieter than usual today, Katniss,” Thom says as she passes by him on the way out of the med room, “What’s eating you?”

            “It’s more of a problem with who isn’t eating her if you ask me,” Johanna offers offhandedly, never looking away from the charting on the screen before her.

            “Thanks for the input, _Jo_ ,” Katniss spits back, hoping Thom doesn’t pick up on the blush quickly rising to her cheeks.

            Johanna always assumes everything revolves around sex, which for the older woman, it usually does. Katniss sometimes wishes her life could be that simple. This morning, she got a call from Greenfields, which always throws her off, but Johanna is at least correct in her assertion that Katniss isn’t bedding anyone regularly these days. Honestly, she has more important things to be thinking about than plotting ways to keep a guy between her thighs.

            “Just thinking about stuff, Thom. No big deal,” Katniss says with a passable smile. “I put a page out for Doctor Aurelius, so if he calls back, forward him to my phone,” she adds, heading for the room where the antibiotic in her hands is supposed to be hung up.

            “Good morning, ladies… and Thom,” Dr. Odair greets the trio as he walks off the elevator next to the nurses’ station, flashing a bright smile at Katniss as she eyes him curiously, pausing on her way to see her patient to hear why in the world Dr. Finnick Odair is visiting the floor today.

            “Haven’t seen you up here in a while, Doctor,” Johanna comments from her seat in front of the computer as Katniss fiddles with the tubing of the antibiotic.

            “That would be because I prefer spending my time with the pediatric patients downstairs,” the young doctor admits, a sparkle in his eye, “They understand me. Plus, they share their toys with me.”

            “So what brings you up here today then?” Katniss asks, flicking at a bubble in the line. “We still don’t have any toys.”

            He laughs, pulling a hand through his bronze hair, leaving it an unruly mess, “I’m covering for Dr. Aurelius today until his new hospitalist can get in and one of you put a page out for him. So here I am.”

            Katniss recalls hearing something about the new hospitalist a few weeks ago. Dr. Aurelius is one of the best doctors in the city, and lately he’s been swamped trying to keep up with appointments at his office on top of doing rounds at the hospital. Hiring a hospitalist was the obvious solution since it will free up more of his time to be at the office. The new hospitalist will take over Dr. Aurelius’s physician rounds, taking care of any patients that he is normally the primary physician for. It has become an increasingly popular option for physicians at Capitol Memorial to hire hospitalists, or at least nurse practioners, to help with their patient loads.

            “You’re making trips to every floor that pages you personally?” Katniss arches an eyebrow curiously at the young man.

            “Only for the lovely nurses like yourself, Everdeen,” he quips, shooting a suggestive wink her way. She lets out a snort in spite of herself. Dr. Odair has been a flirt since the day he was hired at Capitol Memorial, but she’s come to recognize he’s harmless, especially when compared with some of her patients. Somehow he always manages to make her smile, even on days like this when she’s so preoccupied with everything going on in her personal life.

            “So were you the one to page me?” he asks in his most seductive tone.

            “Forget it!” Katniss throws her hands up, the tubing of the antibiotic swinging haphazardly between them as she laughs, backing away from the bronze-haired doctor, “I’ll just write orders and lose my license for it. I can’t work with you today, Doctor.”

            “Oh, come on now, Kit Kat,” Dr. Odair chuckles playfully after her. “Your colleagues won’t tell on us if they discover the true relationship between us. I’m sick of pretending your disdain for my affections is real.”

            Katniss scurries away from the nurses’ station, making a gagging noise as she hurries off to hang the antibiotic before the dose will be considered late. When she returns several minutes later, Dr. Odair is still at the nurses’ station, leaning lazily against the counter as he chats with Johanna and Thom.

            “So fill us in then, Odair,” Johanna turns in her chair with a smirk, “What’s the new doc like?”

            “A completely pompous asshole,” Finnick answers easily, folding the papers in his hand with a grim look, “Thinks he knows everything, looks at nurses and everyone else as his underlings, expects everyone to fall all over themselves to keep him happy-”

            “So, basically, he’s you, right Doc?” Thom retorts boldly from where he’s sitting on hold with the local Walgreens, trying to get information on a newly-admitted patient’s home medications.

            “That’s offensive, Thom!” Finnick shouts over the laughter that breaks out from everyone at the nurses’ station although he’s biting back a smile himself, “Everybody knows I’m the best-looking and most lovable doctor around. You’ll all love me even more once you meet the new one.”

            “Oh, please, Finn,” a deep voice calls, edged with humor, from just beyond the nurses’ station. Katniss turns just in time to see a broad-shouldered, blonde-haired man step off the elevator. “Don’t convince them that they hate me before we even meet.”

            Finnick’s face breaks into an even brighter grin as he turns to greet the hospital’s newest physician, extending a slender hand, “Peeta! You’re here earlier than Dr. Aurelius thought you would be.”

            “It was a pretty quick stop by his office and I didn’t see the point in waiting to come in,” the new doctor says with a shrug and a shy smile. “I thought it might be nice to meet some of the staff I’d be working with.”

            Finnick nods at the group of nurses before him, “This motley crew is the group of nurses you’ll be relying on not to kill your patients on the sixth floor.” Finnick points a thumb towards the handsome man beside him. “Everyone, this is Dr. Aurelius’s new hospitalist Dr. Peeta Mellark.”

            Peeta nods at the group before him, giving an awkward wave. “Nice to meet you all.”

            “Here’s your list for the day, Peeta,” Finnick says, gladly shoving the papers he printed only moments before into the blonde man’s hands. “I’m going back to pediatrics where I fit in. Everyone up here is old and grumpy.”

            “At least the patients up here can tell me what’s wrong,” Peeta chuckles, clapping the other man on the back as he looks down at the names on the sheet in his hand.

            Finnick shrugs, knowing that the blonde man has a point. “Katniss is the one who paged me up here, so you’ll probably need to talk with her first. She’s a hard shell to crack though, Peeta, so don’t beat yourself up too hard if she doesn’t like you.” Finnick flashes her a grin. “I won her over with my stunning good looks, but not everyone is so lucky.”

            Dr. Mellark glances in the direction that Finnick is looking and a blush rises along his neck as his eyes meet the curious grey ones a few feet away. Katniss, for her part, maintains a neutral appearance even though her heart is suddenly pounding against her chest. She doesn’t think she has ever met a person with eyes quite so blue, the color rich enough to get lost in for hours.

            Finnick says his goodbyes, waving as he heads for the elevator, but Katniss has a difficult time tearing her gaze away from the beautiful man before her. She’s not sure when he moves, but all at once he’s standing directly in front of her, his head tilted down so their gazes still meet.

            Up close, she realizes just how big Dr. Peeta Mellark is. He’s not so much tall as he is stocky, muscular, wide. He looks like the type of man who might play football, hockey- some sport where there’s enough contact that his size would be beneficial to throw around. Katniss wonders how in the world a man of this size ended up going through medical school. Almost every other doctor she knows is barely a few inches taller than her at best and slightly built.

            It’s not until he clears his throat that Katniss realizes, a bit belatedly, that she’s been staring in silence for an awkwardly long time. She sticks out a hand, realizing once she does that it’s sweaty and probably not going to give the best impression when she’s hoping to convince this man that she’s a confident nurse.

            “Nice to meet you, Dr. Mellark,” she says, trying to offer a pleasant smile, but she’s afraid it comes across as more of a grimace. Katniss has never been good at pleasantries or introductions.

            He doesn’t seem to notice, or if he does, he’s kind enough not to point it out as he takes her hand, his own large hand engulfing hers. His hand is also dry and just that comfortable temperature that isn’t too cold. Her eyes narrow of their own accord, wondering how on earth this man can be so freaking perfect and how his grip sends electric tingles traveling up her arm.

            “Nice to meet you as well… Katniss? Is that the name Finn used?” Dr. Mellark squints at the name badge hanging from the collar of her navy scrubs.

            She nods, “Yes. We’re a family full of flowers.” She cringes. Why the hell did she just tell him that?

            Dr. Mellark’s lips break into an easy smile though as a sweet chuckle escapes from deep in his throat, drawing a shy smile from Katniss in spite of her embarrassment.

            “Good to know,” he nods amiably as he reaches into the breast pocket of his white medical coat, pulling out a pair of black-framed glasses and placing them on his nose. They somehow seem to enhance the color of his eyes and Katniss finds herself mesmerized, “So Finn said you paged for Dr. Aurelius?”

            Right. Work.

            She gives her head a little shake and looks down at her nails, “Yes, I got in report this morning that Mr. Strider was supposed to be going home today, so I was hoping to get orders and reconcile medications.”

            Dr. Mellark gives an easy smile. “Oh, sure. I’ll just have a look at him first and then come back out here to do the paperwork. How’s Mr. Strider doing today?” he asks, pulling a sheet of hand-written notes from a pocket of his coat and looking it over briefly, the frames of his glasses sliding down the bridge of his nose ever so slightly.

            “He’s good,” she replies dumbly, tugging anxiously at the end of her braid. She’s not sure why her nerves are so raw right now. It’s not as though this man is threatening or intimidating, at least not in the way most physicians are. Physically he’s pretty massive, but she can already tell he’s kind and easygoing in a way most doctors aren’t with nurses.

            A soft chuckle catches her attention, causing her to look up again and meet those stunning eyes. Dr. Mellark is smiling at her, his eyes crinkling at the corners, “I’m going to need a little bit more to go on before I’m ready to discharge him.”

            Blood rushes to her cheeks and she ducks her gaze back to her hands. How embarrassing!  And he’s still smiling at her like she hasn’t just made a complete fool of herself. She wishes she could just crawl under the desk at the nurses’ station and hide there until Dr. Peeta Mellark leaves for the day.

            “How are his lungs sounding?” he prompts, raising a pale eyebrow over the dark frame of his glasses.

            Her heart begins to race again and Katniss tries to remember if she put a nicotine patch on a patient without using gloves this morning. The last time she did that she thought she might be having a heart attack. It felt a lot like she’s feeling right now as her eyes find his vibrant ones again.

            “Pretty shitty-” Katniss stops, her eyes widening before she corrects herself. “Or- uh, coarse. They sound coarse, I mean. They are improving though.”

            Why wouldn’t the floor just open up and swallow her whole? Katniss hears Johanna’s amused snort from behind her and it really must be as embarrassing as Katniss thinks if Jo’s laughing about it.

            Dr. Mellark laughs loudly though, apparently oblivious to her lack of professionalism, “I’ll bet they don’t sound so good. I looked at the x-rays from yesterday.” He gives her a conspiratorial wink before folding the papers up and slipping them back into his coat. Maybe he’s not so oblivious after all. Not that that’s any comfort at this point. “How are his sats this morning?”

            “Ninety-six on two liters.” Katniss answers more readily this time, clearing her throat in an attempt to keep her voice from shaking now that she’s thoroughly embarrassed herself. “They had to bump him up to three overnight but I weaned him down this morning, and he’s been okay with that.”

            “Have you tried taking him off the oxygen completely yet?” Dr. Mellark questions, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck.

            “Not yet. He was working with physical therapy earlier so I didn’t want to do it then.” Katniss shuffles awkwardly from one foot to the other.

            “Okay,” he nods, his blonde hair capturing the light as he moves in the direction of Mr. Strider’s room, “Why don’t you give it a try sometime today before he leaves and if he desats below ninety let me know? I’ll write the discharge orders and do the meds before I leave, but we can keep him another day if he needs the oxygen. Otherwise I’ll switch him over to an oral antibiotic and have him follow-up with Dr. Aurelius in two weeks.”

            “Sure,” Katniss says softly, doing her best to smile confidently at him but she’s not sure it’s very convincing. Judging by the amused look he gives her, she figures he agrees.

 

\---

 

            “So you have the hots for Dr. Blondie,” Johanna says, collapsing into the seat next to Katniss at the break room table.

            “What the hell are you talking about, Jo?” Katniss mumbles through a mouthful of sandwich, rolling her eyes at the stunning, dark-haired woman beside her.

            “I’m talking about the way you turned into a stuttering, idiotic, puddle of mush as soon as that broad-shouldered god started talking to you,” she fixes the younger woman with a shit-eating grin. “Even you aren’t _that_ socially stunted with the average person, Katniss.”

            “And _you’re_ fishing for gossip,” Katniss replies, shaking her head as she stuffs more sandwich into her mouth.

            “Okay, if you want to go for denial that’s fine,” Johanna shrugs. “But that man is ridiculously attractive and you haven’t had a good fuck in ages-”

            “JO!”

            “Just saying!” She holds her hands up in defense with a little cackle. “I would just go for it. You’re young and unattached and you deserve some happiness in your life, Katniss. I don’t think people tell you that enough so I’m saying it for them.”

            “I just have a lot going on right now and the last thing I need is to get involved with a physician,” Katniss mutters, picking at the crust of her sandwich.

            Johanna gives her a knowing glance. “How’s she doing?”

            Katniss looks up in surprise but Jo simply shoots her a wry smile.

            “You always get quiet when she gets bad again. You might not say anything about it, but you’re not that hard to read, Katniss,” Johanna shrugs. “Is there anything I can do?”

            “No,” Katniss admits, her voice barely louder than a whisper, “I’ll be okay.”

            Both girls share a look, one that says they both hope her words are true. Katniss’s nerves are wearing thin lately and she doesn’t know how much longer she can keep doing this. But for now she just has to buck up and make do with what she has to work with.

 

\---

 

            Directly after Katniss finishes her shift at the hospital, she jumps into her old beat-up sedan and makes the drive out to Greenfields. She can’t help but think that the name is an apt description of the establishment as she turns down the familiar drive surrounded by the large open areas of what would be manicured, green grass and trees if it weren’t the dead of winter.

            She finds her way to the unit easily, the path ingrained deeply in her memory at this point as she passes through the hallways washed in soothing colors with tranquil paintings hanging upon them.

            “Hi there, Katniss.” Cinna greets her warmly when he opens the heavy, metal door after she rings the bell.

            She returns his gentle smile as she steps through the doorway and follows him down the short corridor. Cinna swings his badge around his finger carelessly as they approach a black keypad that he waves his ID in front of before a high-pitched beep sounds. A loud click echoes and Cinna pushes the door open, following Katniss through it as she walks onto the unit.

            “How is she doing?” She asks softly, rubbing a hand nervously over the sleeve of her jacket.

            “Better since we called you this morning,” Cinna nods smoothly as he lets them through the door and locks it behind them once again. “The Haldol calmed her down. She’s just really quiet right now like she always is after an episode.”

            “Is she still talking about leaving?” Katniss tugs at the end of her braid.

            Cinna looks at her sympathetically, “She’s still mumbling to herself about breaking out of here. She thinks the government is holding her here to keep her quiet. So pretty much the usual.”

            Katniss sighs heavily, pressing her fingers against her eyes. It’s the same cycle, but after this many years it’s really starting to wear on her. Cinna places a gentle hand to her back. “She’s in the rec room.”

            “Thanks, Cinna.” She gives a halfhearted smile, “I’ll talk to you before I leave for the night, okay?”

            The dark-skinned man nods gently, returning to the nurses’ station and settling down at a computer to chart. Katniss waves at Portia, who is in the med room pulling out evening medications and settling the tiny paper cups onto a tray. Katniss makes her way to the rec room, which is separated from the main visiting area by a small half-wall. It only takes a moment to spot the head of blonde hair sitting just beyond a table where three patients are quietly working on a puzzle.

            “Hi, Mama,” Katniss greets quietly as she walks up behind the rocking chair that’s facing the window, looking out at the dark courtyard of the psychiatric facility.

            She moves around the chair and settles herself carefully on the windowsill, looking up at the woman who raised her. Her mother’s eyes flit to her face for a short moment before returning their focus to the darkness outside. Observing the tired face that seems to have aged twenty years practically overnight, Katniss can’t help but watch the older woman with a wistful look.

            Katniss always found her mother beautiful, but her illness has started to take its toll of late, really ever since Daddy passed. He was always the string that held her to reality and grounded her, but when he died, she spiraled out of control in a way that neither of her daughters seemed able to help.

            The depression was bad enough; Katniss lived in constant fear that she would come home from her shift one evening to her mother and a handful of empty pill bottles. But when the manic phase took hold, her mother became dangerous. She wasn’t just a hazard to herself anymore when she felt invincible, and she was liable to ruin the household finances as well.

            When Katniss came home one day to find a towel on fire on the stove it was the last straw. Mama told her she had been cooking a feast but got distracted by the news report. There was a message hidden in the words, she said. The government was trying to communicate with her.

            That first time after Daddy passed, it was impossible to convince her mother that the hospital was what she needed, that they would give her medicines that would make her feel better. The court only took ten minutes to decide that she was a danger to herself and society if she wasn’t in a locked facility. Since that first time, Katniss has become quite at home at Greenfields Psychiatric Facility. She tries to make it out here at least once a week when her mother is here.

            “Mama?” Katniss repeats after a few minutes of silence, “Will you talk to me?”

            There’s a long pause before Lily turns to look at her eldest daughter, “You have to get me out of here!” she demands, her wide, blue eyes frantically searching Katniss’s face.

            “Mama-”

            “They’re giving me drugs to keep me quiet because of what I know-”

            “Mama, stop it-”

            “You can’t leave me here, Katniss, they’ll kill me.” The words tumble out of her mother’s mouth so quickly that Katniss doesn’t have a chance to stop her. “We can escape! I have a plan that won’t fail!” Her mother reaches for her hands, clasping them desperately, bouncing her heel quickly against the floor, unable to remain still as the mania overtakes her again.

            Katniss sighs, “Mama, no one is trying to hurt you. You’re in the hospital. They’re trying to make you feel better.”

            “I feel fine!” she argues fervently. “Or I did until they gave me that shot today. Look at it.” She raises the sleeve of her t-shirt to show the swollen area on her upper arm where the needle had bruised the tissue when they had forcibly administered the shot of antipsychotic earlier this morning.

            “Don’t you see?” she pleads, moving to stand, wrenching her hands through her stringy, blonde locks. “They’re putting trackers in me. If we don’t get out of here soon-”

            “Mama, stop it!” Katniss shouts, clasping her shaking hands together as she stands. “I’m not taking you out of here. You _need_ to be here. Don’t you remember what happened last time?”

            “I was fine before I came here!” the older woman maintains but Katniss is shaking her head even before she can finish.

            “Mama, you almost drove your car off a bridge-”

            “I did not!” she hisses, her offense hard to miss. “I was trying to deliver an important piece of research and the cops were chasing me.”

            Katniss shakes her head, taking a step back. Talking to her mother when she’s like this is pointless. No matter how logically Katniss tries to argue with her, her mother will never be convinced that her delusions are just that- delusions.

            “Why are you shaking your head like that? You know I’m right, Katniss!” Lily shouts angrily.

            “Lily, here’s your medicines for the night.” Portia holds out the little, white paper cup.

            “I don’t want those!” She swats a frustrated hand in the air, nearly knocking the cup from the other woman’s hand before turning back to Katniss, fixing her with a pointed glare. “You see. They’re trying to drug me.”

            “You need to take those pills, Mama,” Katniss warns, trying her best to soothe the older woman. “Those pills help you.”

            “I won’t take them!” she shouts, backing away, a look of betrayal plastered on her face, “And you can just leave if you’re going to take their side, Katniss. I don’t need you here! I don’t want you here, so just go!”

            “Mama-”

            “Get out! Leave me alone!” she screams as two nurses’ aids suddenly appear, guiding her away down a hallway that leads to her room. The shouting doesn’t stop as she walks away though. Her words quickly revert back to accusations about the government, about escaping this place, about having an important message to deliver.

            Katniss lets her body sag, settling into the rocking chair where her mother was only a handful of minutes before. Her head settles back against the headrest and she closes her eyes, barely hearing Cinna’s quiet tread as he walks up to join her.

            “Hopefully tomorrow will be better,” he offers. Katniss opens her eyes to see him shoving his hands into his pockets, a grim look.

            “But it probably won’t, right?” Katniss asks, already knowing the answer. They’ve been through this before after all.

            “Probably not.” Cinna sighs, reaching out to cover one of her hands with his.

            “When will the judge be here again?” she asks, “So I can switch shifts if I need to.”

            “Thursday,” he replies gently. “You know that your sister could be a family witness as well. It doesn’t have to be you every time, Katniss. That would be a lot to ask of anyone.”

            She shakes her head, letting her forehead fall into her hands. “Prim doesn’t need this stress. Besides, it’s harder for her to get home now that she’s started med school rotations.”

            “Okay,” Cinna nods understandingly, “we’ll get an appointment for Thursday set up then. I’ll call you with a time once we get one.”

            “Thanks, Cinna.” Katniss shoots him a weak smile before standing, cracking her back tiredly. Seeing her mother like this always ages her about ten years. “I guess I’ll see you Thursday then.”

            They walk back the way she came and Cinna lets them through both locked doors, giving her a smile as she steps out into the main hallway of the facility.

            “Take care, Katniss.” Cinna waves goodbye. “We’ll be in contact sometime tomorrow.”

            “Thanks,” Katniss waves, letting herself out of the building and hurrying through the cold night to her car. She lets her forehead fall against the steering wheel, taking several deep breaths to steady her nerves before the drive home. It’s times like these that Katniss misses her father more than anything. He always knew how to talk to her mother when she got like this. Sometimes she just doesn’t know what to do anymore. Sometimes Katniss just wishes there was someone else there who could share this burden. She just feels so lost, so small, that she’s not sure how much longer she can keep this up.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the wonderful response to the first chapter! I still haven’t responded to most of the reviews I received, but I intend on remedying that tonight. I just wanted to get this chapter posted before I went about my errands for the day.

            This is all too familiar. She’s been here more times than she’d like to admit but she’s certain this won’t be the last visit. The room is small and stuffy from so many bodies in it. The air smells almost musty, as though the windows have been closed for too long, which she supposes is a logical conclusion, being it is the middle of winter and all. She hates the way her chair squeals against the linoleum floor when she moves it slightly out of anxiousness. Even after all these years, she still gets nervous every time she has to do this.

            “Miss Everdeen?” the judge asks with poorly-masked irritation as he repeats her name for the third time. Her eyes snap to the middle-aged man at the table across from her. He’s a new one, but this process isn’t.

            “Sorry.” She runs hand instinctively over her braid.

            “State your full name and relationship to the patient,” he repeats dryly, staring at the physician’s statement in front of him, the one that states her mother is suffering from an acute manic episode from her Bipolar Disorder Type 1. Katniss is well aware that it also recommends for the court to order that Lily Everdeen be medicated.

            “Uh - I’m Katniss. Everdeen,” she answers, picking at the cuticle around her left thumb. “Daughter of Lily Everdeen.”

            “And I’m Lily Everdeen,” her mother says from beside her. “I really don’t think we need to even be here today.”

            “That’s all very well, Ms. Everdeen,” the judge replies coolly as he marks something down on his paper. “Doctor Thomas, if you would like to speak first.”

            The grey-haired, balding doctor sits at the end of the table to Katniss’s left. He’s not new. They’ve been through this process together with her mother more times than she can count on one hand. She practically has his script memorized at this point. He cites Lily Everdeen’s diagnosis number.

            Every psychiatric disorder is listed with a unique number in the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, a book most normal people would never dare look at for fear of suddenly having every disorder known to man. Katniss flipped through it once or twice while in nursing school and that was more than enough.

            “Can I talk?” Lily interjects, frustration clearly edging into her tone as she shifts forward in her seat, her heel bouncing nervously against the floor.

            The judge looks to Dr. Thomas who nods curtly. “That was about all I had to say anyway.”

            “Okay then, Lily, what would you like to say today?” the judge asks, scribbling down several notes on his papers.

            “I just want to say that I don’t agree at all with what Dr. Thomas just said.”

            This isn’t surprising. Katniss hasn’t once heard her mother agree with a doctor’s diagnosis when she gets bad like this. It’s hard enough to convince her to take the medicine when she’s not depressed or manic. She just doesn’t see it the way a rational person does when she has an episode.

            “I’m perfectly capable of looking after myself and living at home with my daughter. She’ll tell you the same thing.” Katniss cringes at her mother’s words. She hates when it comes to this because now she has to disagree, to betray her mother, and it never ends well.

            “Dr. Thomas has something against me. He doesn’t understand that some people are just different. He doesn’t understand how brilliant I am. People always thought Einstein was crazy too.” Lily continues arguing, her words becoming more passionate with each sentence as she struggles to remain seated rather than pace the room. Katniss knows because her mother always starts to fidget when she’s resisting the manic urge to pace.

            “No one is calling anyone crazy here today, Ms. Everdeen,” the judge assures her. “Let’s hear from your daughter now. Miss Everdeen?”

            Katniss clears her throat nervously. She understands that they have to go through this every time because it’s the law, but she wishes they could just print a paper with her responses and hand it to the judge before they ever start the meeting. It would save her mother so much heartbreak if Katniss didn’t have to say this every time.

            “My mother isn’t safe to come home until she’s been medicated. The doctors and nurses here have tried their best to get her to take her medicines but she resolutely refuses,” Katniss says softly, her voice just above a whisper as she tries to ignore the way her heart is fluttering in her throat.

            “Can you cite an example of why your mother isn’t safe living at home with you?” the judge presses.

            Katniss could give a hundred examples from over the years, but she knows they only want to hear one, the most recent one. She knows the judge’s time is precious anyway. There was a line of six other patients with their respective families waiting outside of the room before she entered.

            “She’s forgetful when she’s manic like this. She can be in the middle of cooking and hear a story on the radio and completely forget that the burners are on. I came home to a pan of pasta burning on the stove because she forgot she left it boiling-”

            “Everyone makes mistakes sometimes, Katniss!” Lily interjects, speaking to her as though she’s still a ten-year-old child that needs to be reprimanded. “It was fine. You came home and turned the burner off.”

            “She brings strangers into the house as well and I’ve asked her not to-”

            “He wasn’t a stranger! I’ve spoken to him several times,” she interrupts heatedly.

            “Mama, I’ve asked you not to bring men into the house like that. It isn’t safe-”

            “You just don’t want me to be happy again, Katniss!” She’s shouting now, something Katniss always tries to prepare herself for before coming to these court hearings, but it never seems any easier to deal with.

            “You can just leave.” Her mother spits the words like poison, “I don’t want you here if you’re only going to make things worse. Primrose wouldn’t say these awful things!”

            Katniss closes her eyes, taking a deep breath through her nose, trying not to let her mother’s words sting, but it’s a rather futile attempt.

            “I think I have enough to go on here.” The judge continues to jot down notes as he speaks. “Two weeks court-ordered hospitalization. The patient is required to take her prescribed medications during this time. We will re-evaluate the patient’s need for hospitalization at the end of three weeks.”

            “This is absurd!” Lily shouts, finally losing control and beginning to pace across the room. “This is all your fault, Katniss. I’m _fine_! Why do you hate me?”

            “Mama,” Katniss starts, her voice breaking as the blonde woman leaves the room swiftly without another word.

            Cinna steps inside the room a moment later. “Is everything settled in here, or do I need to bring Lily back?”

            “We were finished. Bring the next patient in,” the judge answers easily, waving a hand as he reaches for the next file.

            Cinna nods, reaching a hand out and gesturing for Katniss to follow, which she does though she is still hurting from her mother’s words. His hand finds her shoulder as she passes and gives a comforting squeeze.

            “You’re doing the right thing for her, Katniss,” he murmurs once there aren’t any prying ears around them.

            With a heavy sigh, Katniss lets her face fall to her hands, willing herself to believe Cinna’s words. She knows them to be true. Without this court order, her mother would check herself out of the facility. She would refuse to take her medicines and she would spiral completely out of control. Katniss already tried that once, and it had been a complete disaster that had taken years for their family to move past. Knowing that doesn’t ease the pain of her mother’s searing words, though. Even once the medicine starts to work again Lily Everdeen will remain bitter towards her eldest daughter for speaking against her.

            “Maybe you should wait to come back again until I give you a call,” he suggests. “I can let you know when she starts to come around again.”

            Katniss nods. It’s probably the best plan. Her mother will only become more irate if she sees her before the medications start working again.

            “Okay,” Katniss agrees. “Call anytime.”

            “I know, dear.” He smiles softly, guiding her to the doors so he can use his ID to scan her off the unit. “She does love you, Katniss. She’ll realize it once she’s back in her right mind again.”

            Katniss attempts her best smile, though she’s sure it’s somewhat lacking given the circumstances. “Thank you, Cinna.”

 

 

\---

 

 

            Katniss nearly laughs out loud when she first catches a glimpse of it out of the corner of her eye- the familiar blue screen with gold boxes lined up at the bottom. There hasn’t been much for her to laugh about in the last two weeks, as she spent her days waiting for Cinna to call about her mother. He still hasn’t called, and she wonders if maybe this time her mother won’t get over the sense of betrayal.

             Still, she somehow bites back her laughter, but when Dr. Mellark glances up while on hold to give a dictation for the patient he just visited, his mouth quirks into a guilty smile. Busted.

            He raises the phone slightly before shrugging. “It’s been a long day. Words With Friends helps me unwind.”

            She raises an eyebrow, shaking her head slightly as she turns back to face the computer where she’s attempting to catch up on charting for her patients. She’s gotten more comfortable around the young doctor over the past two weeks, to the point where now she can have a coherent conversation with him about her patients and not look or sound like a complete idiot. But she still can’t deny the way her stomach twists at the sight of that shy smile. The sound of a chair wheeling closer and the weight of a hand on the back of her own chair pulls her attention back to the blue eyes she’s growing increasingly familiar with.

            “You’re judging me because I play on my phone during work,” he says in a low tone, one that can only be heard by her with all the other chatter going on at the nurses’ station.

            “What?” she demands, turning slightly in her chair to face him better. “I never said anything!”

            “You didn’t have to,” he chuckles, placing his glasses on his nose and turning his attention back to the small screen in his hand, “You reek of judgment.”

            Katniss knows he’s probably just kidding, but she doesn’t like the idea of being labeled as a judgmental person, especially by him, even if she might secretly be berating him in her mind. That has nothing to do with him specifically. She just hates the double standard that hospital policy has for its nurses versus the doctors.

            Katniss doesn’t want to admit to these emotions so instead her eyes flit around until they land on the glowing screen of Dr. Mellark’s phone. He’s already well into the game, but his score is barely a third of his opponent’s.

            “The only thing I’m judging you for is how badly you’re losing right now,” she snaps, biting her bottom lip as soon as the words leave her mouth. Throwing around insults is probably on the quick list of ways to end up in hot water at this hospital.

            He doesn’t seem bothered by it though. On the contrary, he lets out a soft snort. “I know. Finnick is kicking my ass. I swear he lets people borrow his phone just so he can pretend to beat me.”

            “You know there’s an app for that? He doesn’t need people to cheat at Words,” Katniss points out. “Anyway, I have the same problem. My sister kicks my ass every time.” 

            A grin starts to break out on his face, but suddenly his eyes lose their focus and she hears the transcriptionist speaking from the other end of the line. He gives her an apologetic look and turns back to his own computer, pushing his glasses up his nose as he reports on the patient’s labs that are displayed on his computer screen.

            His phone is left sitting on the counter and Katniss reaches for it before she really thinks about what she’s doing, having seen the perfect play on Finnick’s last move of “UNDERWEAR.”

            She deftly slides the letters onto the board, spelling out “QUIPS” over both a triple-letter and triple-word score, earning more than double the points Dr. Odair made on his last move.

            “Things could get ugly if you go around playing other people’s games, Katniss,” Dr. Mellark says a few moments later when he notices the word she played.

            “Somebody had to help you. You were floundering,” Katniss retorts, a blush reaching her cheeks before his laughter rings out through the nurses’ station.

            “Are you two actually getting any work done over there or are you just working on getting into her pants, doctor?” Johanna pipes up, silencing everyone else at the nurses’ station as they all duck their heads and pretend to go about their business.

            Katniss has half a mind to lunge across the area and throttle Johanna, but she’s far too mortified to even move at the moment, the sting of embarrassment still prickling along her skin. She’s shocked when she notices that Dr. Mellark’s cheeks are flushed a lovely cherry-red as well while he runs a hand roughly over the back of his neck.

            He opens his mouth to speak just as his phone pings, showing a new message from Finnick: “Peet, there is no way you just played “QUIPS” without help. I’ve never heard you use that word before. You’re a cheat.”

            He chuckles holding the phone out so Katniss can read the screen before he turns it off and places it in the pocket of his white coat along with his glasses.

            “Johanna’s probably right,” Dr. Mellark admits, “I have a lot of patients to see today, so I should get going.”

            He stands, pressing his hands over the thighs of his grey slacks as he does and she tries to keep her eyes trained away. She tries to ignore the heat pooling between her own thighs at the sight of the way his pants cling to the thick muscles of his legs. Katniss isn’t quite sure what’s gotten into her today.

            “Maybe sometime we can sit down and play a full game of Words together,” he suggests and even this small smile reaches the corners of his eyes, crinkling the skin there which only further compliments their astounding blue.

            Damn, has she got it bad.

            She somehow manages to laugh despite her thoughts, one hand nervously finding the end of her braid, hoping her face doesn’t somehow give her away. Gale always says she’s as easy to read as any book and she’s never learned how to control it.

            “Maybe,” she agrees, refusing to look up at him anymore. Clearly she’s no better than a hormonal teenager when Dr. Mellark is around.

            Johanna is at least kind enough to wait until he’s on the elevator to another unit before she rolls her chair up next to Katniss’s and waggles her eyebrows.

            “If I were you, I’d try and get a whole lot more than a game of Words With Friends out of that man. Did you see the way those pants hugged his ass? Holy shit!” Johanna cackles, fanning herself dramatically.

            Katniss blushes, unable to admit that she’d been too busy staring at the front of him to pay much mind to the back end. Johanna takes her reaction as confirmation though. “How long is it going to take you to tap that?”

            “Jo!” Katniss hisses, ducking her head and continuing to chart. Damn her, because now Katniss really can’t stop thinking about those thighs and what they might feel like moving between her own.

            “He wants it, girl,” Johanna shrugs nonchalantly, “He was sitting here undressing you with his damn eyes.”

            “He was not!” Katniss scoffs, “I need to go check on my patients,” she lies, standing and hurrying away from Johanna.

            Even if what Johanna said was true, is she ready to complicate her work situation? Things at home are already complicated enough. Something tells her Dr. Mellark won’t be an easy one to shake though now that he’s wormed his way into her mind so effortlessly. He’s been at the hospital less than a month and their interactions, until today, have strictly been in relation to their patients. What the hell is wrong with her? Johanna would say she needs a good fuck. She’s probably right.

            The afternoon passes without much incident aside from the occasional, or perhaps more than occasional, jibe from Johanna. Just as the shift is coming to an end, Katniss walks into her last patient’s room, carrying his pre-dinner insulin.

            “Leo, I have your insulin, buddy,” she tells him, speaking louder than she normally would for the elderly man. He’s not especially hard of hearing, but more often than not he asks her to repeat what she says if she says it in her normal tone.

            Presently though, he doesn’t say much of anything, simply looks at her with wide, confused eyes. Katniss gives him a reassuring smile as she logs into the computer mounted on the wall beside his bed.

            “Okay, Leo,” Katniss says once she logs in and lets the computer know that she’s administering the medication. She rips open an alcohol pad and moves to wipe the man’s arm. “A little cold here and then just a little stick.”

            He lets out a blood-curdling scream when the wet swab comes into contact with his upper arm though.“Get it away from me! Who are you?”

            “I’m Katniss, Leo, your nurse,” she informs him patiently. Unfortunately he has a history of dementia, and she received in report this morning that he tends to have sun-downing, a term given to patients who suffer from increased confusion as the day turns to night. “Do you know where you are right now?”

            “Of course I know where I am!” he retorts angrily, beginning to pick absent-mindedly at the tape near his IV site. “I’m in Las Vegas, Nevada. Where the damn hell is Eunice?”

            “Who is Eunice?” Katniss asks in a soothing voice as she starts to swab the man’s arm again.

            “Are you stupid or something?” he demands, yanking his arm from her grip as his other hand wraps around the end of his indwelling urinary catheter that leads to the drainage bag. “Eunice is my wife and I told you to stop that!”

            Katniss is almost certain that this man’s wife died several years ago and she’s positive they aren’t in Las Vegas right now, but it’s really no use telling him that. He’ll stay calmer if he thinks he’s in a place he knows.

            “Is everything okay in here?” Lavinia, a petite, red-haired nurse’s assistant asks as she pops her head through the door. Katniss gives her a grateful smile. She’s one of the most reliable workers on the unit and always willing to lend a hand when she’s not giving baths and swapping out bedpans. She must have heard Leo’s screaming all the way down the hallway.

            “He’s a little confused right now,” Katniss states in a quiet, even tone so as not to upset him further. “Leo, I need you to let go of that tubing.” She tugs gently at the catheter tubing in his hand, but his grip only tightens.

            Lavinia steps around the other side of the bed, catching his attention as she does, and he smiles.

            “I know you,” he states, pointing a finger, twisted by arthritis, at the young woman beside him, “We were in the eighth grade together. Patricia is your name, right? All the boys loved your hair.”

            “Thank you,” she replies with a sweet smile, dodging his question so she doesn’t have to disagree with him. “Can you let go of this, Leo? We don’t want you to pull on it and hurt yourself.”

            He frowns, tugging his hand and the tubing from her grip. “Don’t you remember?”

            “Remember what?” Lavinia asks as Katniss tries to contain a sigh. This could go on forever if they aren’t careful.

            “You know!” he replies as though the answer should be obvious to everyone in the room. He shifts, clearly becoming more agitated with their lack of understanding as to what he’s talking about. “You know. We went to that dance together, Brenda, remember?”

            Lavinia does her best to talk him down, holding onto the hand gripping his catheter tubing the entire time while Katniss turns back to the computer, looking to see which medications the physician ordered on an as-needed basis.

            Of course, there’s no Ativan ordered, which leaves her essentially helpless with this poor man until she can get a hold of the physician. She looks to the top of the screen for the attending doctor. Mellark, Peeta. Damn him.

            “Do you think you’ve got him for a minute? I’m going to try getting a hold of the doctor to get some IV Ativan,” Katniss asks Lavinia, who nods with a tight smile. For the moment, as long as she keeps Leo talking, he doesn’t seem to be exceptionally agitated.

            Katniss is out the door in an instant, dialing the pager number that her mind has somehow already managed to memorize. For once she doesn’t curse her good memory because it saves her the time of walking all the way to the nurses’ station and looking it up.

            As she expected, the cell phone in her hand rings only a minute or two later, “Dr. Mellark, this is Katniss up on six North-”

            “I know who you are, Katniss,” he chuckles on the other end of the line. “I don’t think there are many Katnisses running around the hospital. What can I do for you?”

            “Um…” A dozen things he could do for her flash through her mind and she cringes, brushing a hand over the top of her head as though trying to banish the thoughts. “I need Ativan. For the patient in six-twenty, I mean. Leo Hollbrook. He’s really confused and pulling at tubing-”

            “Go ahead and give him 1 mg IV and order it as a PRN so you have it if you need it again later. He can get it every four hours,” Dr. Mellark says easily. “Do you think he needs restraints or anything?”

            “I don’t think so. He’s not aggressive, and I think once the Ativan kicks in he’ll calm down just fine,” Katniss muses, heading toward the med room to override for Ativan in the Pyxis, the unit’s massive dispensary for almost all the medications given on the floor. She’ll put the order in and send it down to the pharmacy later, but for now she wants to get the drug into the man’s system before he has a chance to rip every tube out of his body.

            “Okay. Give me a call if you need an order for anything else,” Dr. Mellark says, in a tone so pleasant that it’s almost disconcerting. “I’m on call for the night so I’ll be around for a little while yet.”

            Katniss doesn’t waste time saying goodbye before hanging up the phone and grabbing a syringe and a large bore needle as she logs into the Pyxis and scans her fingerprint. Several touches of the screen later, the locked refrigerator pops open with a beep, and she quickly counts the vials of Ativan in the container before pulling her own out and typing in the number on the screen to reconcile the amount of medication still available.

            She hears the older man before she even reaches the door and knows that administering this medication is going to be easier said than done. He’s trying to fight Lavinia’s grip off of him and shouting at her, something about a man named Sam. Luckily, his IV is in his right forearm, which happens to be the one he refuses to move from the catheter tubing, so hopefully he won’t move around too much.

            Katniss quickly flips the blue top of the vial off and connects the syringe to the needle, pulling up the thick liquid as quickly as the large needle will allow. It only takes a minute, but by the time the liquid is finally drawn up, Leo is growing increasingly anxious and when Katniss reaches to connect the syringe with the hub of his IV, he jerks his hand away, aiming a kick at her stomach.

            “Hey!” Katniss shouts, struggling to remain calm. She knows he’s just confused and threatened by the situation but she’s not a fan of being assaulted either, even if it is by an eighty-six-year-old man, “I’m your nurse. I need to give you this medicine. It’ll make you feel better.”

            “I don’t need any medicine!” he yells back. “Just leave me alone and bring Eunice in here.”

            “Eunice can’t be here right now, but this medicine will help you relax, Leo,” Katniss reasons. “Please, let me help you.”

            She reaches for his arm again, and this time he reaches out, grabbing her wrist and squeezing painfully. Katniss wonders how a man this frail and this old can have this much strength.

            “Ow!” She tries to twist her hand from his grip, but it’s like an iron lock. “You’re hurting me. You need to let go, Leo.”

            The door to the room swings open before the old man is able to respond. It reveals Dr. Mellark, brow furrowed in concern, “Hey, Leo, what’s going on here?”

            The old man’s eyes widen as they rove over the large man standing beside his bed. He doesn’t look fearful so much as he does surprised, which is a feeling Katniss understands well when it comes to Dr. Mellark.

            “These girls are trying to hurt me,” he informs the good doctor in a much calmer tone than he had been using only moments before. “I want them to leave me alone.”

            Dr. Mellark nods sympathetically. “I understand that and they will leave you to rest, but first they really need to give you some medicine. You’re not going to get better if you don’t let the nurses give you this. And you really need to let go of Katniss. You don’t want to hurt either of these lovely ladies.”

            Leo fixes him with a skeptical look but nods, allowing Katniss to connect the syringe to the hub of his IV and push the medication into the line.

            “I have insulin too,” she says, quickly wiping his arm with alcohol and administering the shot quickly before he can change his mind about allowing it.

            Dr. Mellark nods towards the hand that is still firmly gripping the catheter tubing. “I need you to let go of that catheter too, buddy. I don’t want you pulling that out and hurting yourself, alright?”

            “I don’t like having it in,” he argues, listening to the orders and releasing his grip. Lavinia lets out a heavy breath, backing away from the bed now that the minor crisis has been averted.

            “Well, I’ll see about having them take it out tomorrow morning,” the blond man offers, running a hand over the pocket of his physician’s coat. He comes up empty-handed and gives a sheepish smile in Katniss’s direction, “Do you have a pen? I must have left mine downstairs before I came up here in a hurry.”

            Lavinia finds one first and hands it to the doctor with a pleasant smile.

            “Okay, Leo,” he says, pulling out a sheet of paper and starting to scribble. “I’m going to write a note for myself. I’ll come by tomorrow to see how things go tonight and we’ll see about discontinuing the catheter.”

            His words seem to soothe the older man (or maybe that’s simply the Ativan beginning to work its magic) but Katniss doesn’t care what calms him so long as he doesn’t start pulling IVs and catheters out.

            Lavinia hurries out of the room to answer a call light as Katniss wishes Leo a good night. Dr. Mellark promises he’ll be back tomorrow before lunch and leads the way out into the hall.

            “You must be an awfully good doctor,” Katniss states as they amble slowly back towards the elevator and nurses’ station.

            He arches a pale eyebrow in amusement. “How so?”

            “Do you make personal calls to all of your patients who get anxious?” she retorts, raising an eyebrow of her own.

            “Not all of them.” His cheeks flush as though he’s just been caught doing something naughty.

            Katniss laughs, “Well, I’m not sure I would be leaving work with two hands today if you hadn’t talked him down, so thanks for that, I guess.”

            Dr. Mellark laughs as well, but she doesn’t miss the way he glances at he wrist, which is red but otherwise unharmed.

            “Consider it repayment for not automatically ordering you IV Ativan for a patient that gets confused,” he replies, flashing her a winning smile.

            Shaking her head, she bites her lip to keep from smiling before joking, “Just don’t let it happen again, Doctor.”

            Dr. Mellark doesn’t laugh at this though; instead he stops walking, turning to face her, his eyes an intense blue as she looks up at him curiously. Maybe she took the joke too far. She was under the impression that he was easygoing enough he wouldn’t mind, but Katniss has never been the best at reading people.

            “Katniss-” He’s cut off by a high-pitched ringing and he groans, reaching for his phone and glancing at the number. He shakes his head. “Sorry. I have to take this. Have a good night, Katniss.”

            She doesn’t move right away, watching the way his shirt shifts over his broad shoulders and the perfect fit of his slacks. She misses the opportunity to truly appreciate the sight because her mind is still confused about what just happened. Was he angry with her? He didn’t seem like it when he left. But then what did he want to tell her? A call light starts blinking just down the hallway and she lets out a heavy sigh; she’ll probably never know.

 

 

\---

 

 

            “Shit!” Katniss shouts, slamming a hand down on the steering wheel of the banged-up Chevy Cavalier when the engine fails to turn over for the third time in a row.

            She pulls the lever for the hood of the car before hopping out to take a look at the engine. She might as well be trying to read Japanese for all she knows about cars, and it’s beyond her why the damn thing won’t start.

            Unfortunately for Katniss, the weather has decided to take a turn for the worse, and snow is falling thickly around her while the wind whips it up almost before it can even hit the ground. She pulls out her cell phone with another curse under her breath, dialing the only person she knows for a fact will be able to help her.

            Of course, he doesn’t answer, but she leaves a message knowing that he’ll check his phone eventually. Until then, she’ll just have to wait in the hospital where at least there’s heat. With more force than necessary, Katniss slams the hood of the car back down, muttering a string of curses as she trudges back towards the hospital practically blinded by the snow blowing in her face.

            “Whoa there.” A pair of large hands grab her shoulders, steadying her balance after she runs headlong into a very solid body, “Where’s the fire, Katniss?”

            She looks up, her heart freezing as she realizes this is no stranger.

            “Sorry, Doctor Mellark!” she blurts out, quickly stepping away from his grip and stuffing her hands in her pockets, trying her best to avoid his piercing blue gaze. “I couldn’t see with the snow.”

            “Obviously,” he says, but he doesn’t sound irritated like most people would. Mostly he just sounds like he’s trying not to laugh.

            “Right,” Katniss says, awkwardly sidestepping him so she can enter the hospital. “Sorry again.”

            His lips, normally curved into a natural smile, form an uncharacteristic frown, “Where are you going?”

            “Inside.” She rolls her eyes just thinking about her luck again, “My car broke down and I’m waiting for someone to come pick me up.”

            “Will they be here soon?” he asks, stepping in front of her and scanning his ID before opening the side entrance of the hospital and following her back inside.

            “I don’t know,” Katniss shrugs. “I couldn’t get a hold of him. I’m waiting for him to call back and let me know that he got my message.”

            “Oh.” She thinks she notices a slight blush reach his cheeks before he asks, “Your boyfriend?”

            Katniss laughs at the thought. “No. Definitely not.”

            Now his cheeks definitely flush pink. “Sorry. That’s really none of my business anyway. My mother always yelled at me for asking questions when I shouldn’t. Dad called me Curious George.”

            She can’t help the genuine smile his admission brings to her lips. Suddenly Katniss finds herself imagining a little Dr. Peeta Mellark asking a million questions, and the thought leaves her chuckling. It seems somehow fitting even though she hardly knows him.

            “Anyway, well,” he hesitates, his blue eyes finding hers from beneath a thick set of light eyelashes. She’s never noticed them before, probably because he almost always has his glasses on, “Do you want a ride home? I- uh- I hate to think you’ll be waiting here all night for someone to come get you.”

            She feels her eyes widen, surprised he would offer since, really, they’re barely acquaintances. “Seriously?”

            He nods, pulling a hand through the mop of curls on his head, “Sure. I’m on call tonight anyway so it’s not like I have any big plans.”

            “In that case…” she trails off with a chuckle but Dr. Mellark’s smile stops her when it makes her stomach twist.

            He motions for her to walk with him as he leads the way out to his sleek sedan. “Go ahead and get in,” he offers, hitting the button on his keychain to unlock the doors, the engine already running quietly from what must be an auto-start button.

            This car is fancier than anything Katniss has ever owned simply because it was made after the nineteen-nineties. She lets herself in on the passenger’s side, appreciating the immediate warmth that greets her cold body as she settles inside.

            Dr. Mellark runs around to the back seat, pulling out a snow scraper and begins clearing the freshly-fallen white flakes off the window. Part of her feels guilty for sitting there, letting him do all the work while she’s warm inside. But a larger part of her doesn’t want to offer simply _because_ she’s warm inside. It’s not a bad view anyway, especially given the dark wool coat he’s wearing. The way the coat is fitted accentuates his wide shoulders. Something warm starts to gather in her belly and lower as she continues to watch him shamelessly. 

            He brushes himself off once the car is cleared and hops in behind the wheel, his cheeks and the tip of his nose flushed red with the cold. With a shivering chuckle, he puts the car in gear and makes his way to the main road.

            “I live over on Seam Street if you know where that is,” Katniss offers, trying to ignore the fact that their shoulders are only separated by a few inches. What is it about this man that turns her into a giddy, prepubescent girl?           

            “Oh, sure,” Dr. Mellark nods, flipping on his signal to turn left. “I know the area.” He glances at her with a smile, his blue eyes nearly black in the low light, but suddenly it’s there again. The electric feeling that she’s noticed a handful of times in the last two weeks whenever Dr. Mellark happens to be around.

            Katniss wills herself not to feel it because she knows he’s a physician, and having feelings like this has the potential to really screw things up.  But the feeling _is_ there and she can’t deny that it is despite every reason her mind produces over why it shouldn’t be.

            The ride is mostly silent, save for the sound of slush hitting the side of the car as they drive and the drumming of Dr. Mellark’s fingers against the wheel when a particularly upbeat song comes on the radio. Katniss isn’t sure what to say and with the way her stomach is now in knots, she’s afraid she’ll say something stupid anyway. She has to bite the inside of her cheek when he starts humming softly to the song as his fingers tap out the beat. He’s horribly off-tune, but she still can’t help but find his enjoyment endearing.

            “It’s the brownstone one on the right here,” she says quietly once they’ve turned onto her street.

            He pulls cleanly up to the curb, but Katniss doesn’t get out right away. She finds doesn’t really want to leave the warm presence of Dr. Mellark tonight, but she has no reason not to.

            “Thanks for the ride, Dr. Mellark,” she says, forcing herself to open the car door.

            His hand finds hers, the sharp jolt of electric heat from his skin touching hers freezing her movement instantly.

            “Call me Peeta,” he says softly, staring at their entwined hands as well, “It sounds ridiculous to be called Dr. Mellark, especially outside of work.”

            “Okay.” Her tone is breathy and she cringes, tugging her hand away from his because she can’t think clearly when they’re touching. “Peeta, then. Thanks.”

            “Katniss-” He starts but stops, shaking his head almost imperceptibly with a shadow of a smile on his lips. “You’re welcome. Have a nice evening.”

            Katniss tries to ignore the way her heart falls at his words. In spite of her better judgment, some small part of her wished he would have said something more- wished that he might have given her some indication that he can feel the same things she’s feeling. But he doesn’t.

            “Right. I should get going.” She shifts reluctantly in her seat. She really shouldn’t want to stay with him this much. They hardly know each other’s names; she has no right to be this attached to Dr. Peeta Mellark.

            Katniss turns, walking slowly away from his car towards her front door. It’s the slamming of a car door that stops her in her tracks only a few steps later.

            “Katniss!” he calls out, quickly catching up to her in a few short strides. His hand goes to the back of his neck before he speaks his next words, his blue eyes looking up shyly through his glasses to meet hers. “Do you want to get coffee or something? Have you eaten? I just- I usually don’t really sleep when I’m on call, so I thought you might want to…”

            She realizes it’s completely ridiculous that her stomach twists excitedly and that it’s ludicrous the way her heart speeds up at his suggestion. But she hasn’t eaten, and as a matter of fact, she’s absolutely starving.

            “I could eat,” she answers, a soft smile tugging at her lips when she watches the way his smile lights up his eyes.

            “Great!” He looks almost giddy, like a boy just informed he could go to a candy shop. “What kind of food do you like?”

            “I like all food,” Katniss answers without a second’s hesitation, earning a hearty chuckle from him as he leads her back to his car still idling at the curb.

            “How about Italian?” he suggests. “I know this awesome hole in the wall place.”

            “Do they have breadsticks?” she questions, pretending for just a moment that she’s skeptical of his decision.

            “Of course, what Italian place worth its salt wouldn’t?” he grins, opening the passenger door for her so she can settle in again.

            Peeta quickly makes his way back to the driver’s side and once they’re on their way to the restaurant, he flashes her a joking smile before asking, “You’re not just going to order a salad right? I don’t like eating with girls that refuse to order actual sustenance for a dinner out.”

            Katniss snorts, “No. Have you ever been back in the nurses’ break room around lunchtime?”

            He shakes his head.

            “Well, this will be a real experience for you then.”

            He glances over at her, his eyes darker than before, “I can’t wait to be enlightened.”

            She blushes, realization finally hitting her that they are indeed spending time together in a non-work related manner. The nerves come shortly after because although she’s become more comfortable working with Dr. Mellark, Katniss still doesn’t know anything about Peeta Mellark, and she has a feeling she’ll quickly be in over her head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A special thanks to Court81981 for beta’ing this story. She’s fantastic and she’s also publishing her first Everlark fic. If you like historical AUs, hers is absolutely fantastic and you should check it out!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the obscenely long wait for this chapter. My mind keeps sidetracking me with plot bunnies. Very special thanks to Court81981 who is brilliant and took this hot mess of a chapter and made it into something actually readable. You’re the best!

            Katniss doesn’t realize they’ve arrived at their destination until Peeta parks the car and hurries to get her door for her. They’re in a small, residential part of downtown. It’s pretty bare; trees line the streets and there are less than a handful of other pedestrians in the area. There aren’t any restaurants in sight, though.

            She frowns as she steps onto the slush-covered sidewalk, “Is this when you actually turn into a sociopathic serial killer who’s just a doctor by day?”

            He stares at her for a long moment, and she begins to wonder if maybe she should hightail it out of there, but then he bursts into loud, easy laughter that immediately relaxes her.

            “No,” he shakes his head once his laughter is under control again, “Although, would I honestly admit to if I was? But the restaurant is just a few buildings down in the basement of an apartment.”

            Peeta smiles when the frown doesn’t disappear from her face, and he adds, “I told you it was a hole in the wall.”

            “Right,” Katniss agrees as they begin walking, “I just figured that it would be above ground with a sign or something.”

            He chuckles again, shoving his hands into the pocket of his dark wool coat, which draws her attention back to just how wide his shoulders are. She has a hard time tearing her eyes away from the gentle slope of them until he meets her eyes with his own, and she ducks her gaze shyly. A few minutes later, they pass a handwritten sign instructing them to ‘head downstairs for genuine Italian cuisine.’ Katniss quickly realizes they don’t need the sign to direct them however because the heavenly scent of food wafts out to the street.

            “Well, at least I know how you found this place,” she remarks as her stomach growls loudly, and Peeta leads her off the street, down the stairs, and opens the door for her.

            “My brother found it, actually,” he informs her, following her into the small dining room. It’s filled with quiet chatter and tables draped with checked cloths. “He’s a food hound and practically sniffed the place out from a half a mile away.”

            Katniss nods as a waitress ushers them to a table along the wall. So Dr. Mellark has a brother. She makes a mental note of it, finding that it somehow seems to make sense. She wonders if his brother looks like him, but that’s probably impossible. She can’t imagine two men as attractive as him in one house.

            The menu is simple, nothing fancy, which is fine in her book as long as the food tastes as good as the room smells.

            “Usually, I just order whatever’s on special. Everything is good though,” Peeta says, folding the menu up, “And you have to try the Pinot Grigio. The family that runs this place maintains a little winery back in Italy. It’s fantastic stuff.”

            Katniss arches an eyebrow at him over the top of the menu. “You’re drinking while you’re on call?”

            “No!” His eyes go wide at the mere thought, “Shit, I’d like to keep my job, thanks. But it’s your night off, and you should enjoy it.”

            She laughs softly, setting the menu down so she can rest her chin on one hand, her elbow propped up on the checkered tablecloth. “What’s your motive, doctor?”

            “I don’t know what you mean.” He frowns, deep lines forming between his eyebrows. Katniss doesn’t understand how his eyes could be so blue, so deep, like she could get lost in them forever. It doesn’t seem possible.

            “Do you always try to get girls drunk when you take them out?”

            If she thought his eyes were wide before, she was mistaken. The blue orbs now look like saucers against the whites of his eyes, “Wh- what? No- I would never-“ he sputters. His innocent reaction tugs at her chest, and she nearly feels guilty for teasing.

            “I’m kidding, Peeta,” she chuckles and decides a change in subject would be best as she looks back at the menu. “How do I know what’s on special?”

            His cheeks flush a shade of red that matches the tablecloth as he clears his throat and points to a small chalkboard near the door. Different entrées are written in loopy script, and she nods, squinting to read the words clearly.

            A plump, older woman wanders over to their table a few minutes later wearing a cheerful smile as she asks in a heavy accent if they are ready to order yet. Peeta glances at Katniss and nods, which she takes as a signal to go ahead.

            “I’ll have the Chicken Florentine, and I hear that I need to try the Pinot Grigio while I’m here.”

            “A good choice, dear,” she commends Katniss before turning to Peeta, who orders the Spinach Lasagna.

            Katniss plays with the clear plastic straw in the glass of water, unsure of what to say now that ordering is out of the way. She hardly knows the man sitting across from her. Why in the world did she ever agree to eat a dinner- alone- with Dr. Peeta Mellark? What was she thinking?

            “So how do you know Finnick Odair?” Katniss blurts out once the silence between them becomes too uncomfortable for her to bear any longer.

            Peeta laughs, giving her a knowing look. Shit. It must be blatantly obvious how nervous she is.

            “We were residents together on the same rotation,” he explains, diving into a story about their first rotation on an elder care unit when Finnick ended up with a shirt full of urine one morning and had to wear lilac scrubs around for the rest of the day because of a bet he made with his colleagues.

            “What kind of bet was that?” Katniss snorts, imagining the illustrious Finnick Odair’s face when the confused old man peed all over him.

            “Whoever ended up covered in a bodily fluid first had to wear these god awful lilac scrubs Finnick had found at a thrift store.” Peeta’s eyes light up as he lets out a deep laugh from his belly, a sound that sends heat coiling in her own stomach, “Of course he thought that the bodily fluid would at least be blood or spinal fluid or something cool like that, not an old wrinkly man’s urine. Not to mention he never imagined he might be the one wearing them.”

            Katniss makes a face at the thought, laughter bubbling up from her belly as Peeta rehashes other adventures of his residency, including one particularly adamant six-year-old girl who had demanded a kiss from him during his pediatric rotation.

            The waitress returns then with the breadsticks and Katniss’s glass of wine. After the woman wanders away, Katniss arches an eyebrow.

            “So did you?” she questions, reaching immediately for a breadstick from the basket in the middle of the table.

            “Did I…” he repeats distractedly as he reaches for a breadstick of his own, eating almost half of it in one bite.

            “Kiss her?” Katniss asks popping a bit of bread into her mouth and moaning as it nearly melts in her mouth.

            Peeta chuckles knowingly. “Good, right?”

            She nods and gives him a look to let him know she’s still waiting for his answer.

            “I might have,” he blushes, looking down at his hands.

            “Seriously?” She tries to hide her shock but fails miserably. “Dr. Mellark a rule breaker?”

            “Yes, seriously, Katniss. I gave her a peck on the cheek,” Peeta confirms but then shoots her a wicked smile. “Don’t tell me you never did anything you weren’t supposed to during nursing school?”

            “No,” she says stubbornly, sipping at the Pinot Grigio, which is crisp and delicious just as he promised.

            “I was the perfect specimen of professionalism.”

            The waitress returns, carrying two steaming dishes of food. She places one in front of each of them with a smile and scurries off once Peeta assures her that everything looks delicious.

            His eyes crinkle at the edges behind the frames of his glasses as he smiles. “Right. I don’t think I believe you.”

            “Well, you should, because it’s the truth.” She shrugs, shoving a bite of chicken into her mouth. This is probably best Italian she can ever remember eating.

            “I call bullshit.”

            She snorts again, shoveling in another bite of food until Peeta reaches across the table and pulls the fork out of her hand. She scowls, chewing slowly as she eyes the doctor sitting across from her.

            “Excuse you,” she mutters once she’s swallowed, reaching for her fork again.

            “Oh, no.” Peeta grins playfully, “I’m not looking to be excused. I’m looking for a real answer.”

            Her eyes grow wide. “No. Give me back my fork.”

            “As soon as you tell me one rule you broke during nursing school.” Peeta’s grin is so large Katniss wonders how it can’t hurt. “Don’t go making me feel like I’m the naughty one.”

            Katniss’s stomach twists into a knot at the devious sparkle in his eyes. “I don’t know why you assume I’m a troublemaker like you.”

            She reaches for another breadstick, but he slides the basket out of her reach, earning an eye roll from her. “Now you’re just being ridiculous.”

            “One story and it’s all yours again,” he offers in a singsong voice, helping himself to a breadstick while Katniss continues to scowl darkly. He takes a dramatic bit, giving a ridiculous moan as his eyes roll into the back of his head. She has to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling, determined not to cave.

            “This is the worst date I’ve ever been on,” she mutters, swiping a finger through the tomato sauce on her plate and licking it clean.

            Something darkens in Peeta’s gaze. “Is that what this is?”

            “Oh, I-“ Katniss stutters, cheeks flushed with embarrassment, “I don’t know. I just- I assumed…” Her face feels like it’s on fire, and he’s sitting there smiling wolfishly, holding her fork hostage and hogging the breadsticks to himself.

            “Would you like it to be a date?” He arches a pale eyebrow, amusement easily detected in his tone.

            Katniss tries to laugh it off, but her vocal cords seem to have frozen over, and all that she manages is a strangled squeak that just makes her cheeks burn brighter.

             “I’d like it to be a date,” Peeta says, shooting her an easy grin before adding, “but only if it turns out not to be the worst one you’ve ever been on.”

            She’s quiet for a long while, wishing the floor would simply open up and suck her into a black hole. How does she always manage to embarrass herself when Peeta is around?

            “Then you should probably give me back my fork,” she says shortly, reaching for he utensil, which he doesn’t attempt to keep away from her again.

            He chuckles from somewhere deep in his chest as he passes the breadsticks back to her. “So you’re not going to tell me any stories are you?”

            “Oh, I could tell you all kinds of stories.” She rolls her eyes dramatically as she starts to shovel food into her mouth again, “But they aren’t going to be unprofessional ones.”

            She doesn’t notice that the conversation has fallen silent between them again until she sees the poorly concealed enjoyment plastered all over Peeta’s face as he watches her with rapt attention.

            “What are you staring at?” she demands, covering her mouth with her hand as she continues to chew.

            “Do you even breathe while you eat?” he questions in fascination, his wide blue eyes searching her grey ones.

            She snorts, nearly choking herself on the food as she swallows it hastily. “Hazard of the job.” She sets her fork down and reaching for her napkin. “Every time I try to eat at work, some pesky doctor shows up needing to talk to me. You learn to eat fast or you don’t eat at all.”

            “That’s inhaling, not eating,” Peeta argues as he takes another bite of his own dinner. Katniss’s gaze darts from his still half-full plate to he own practically empty one and realizes he’s absolutely right. Laughter bubbles past her lips, filling the quiet room with the joyful noise. The smile that it brings to Peeta’s lips is positively breathtaking, and a moment later, Katniss finds herself staring blatantly at his mouth, wondering what it would taste like right now.

            “So,” Peeta breaks the silence, shaking Katniss from her daydreams, “you didn’t ever break your Florence Nightingale Pledge, but you must have at least one funny story to share.”

            She shrugs shyly. “Most of them are just the usual disgusting bodily fluids ones.”

            “I’m sure it’s not that disgusting,” he assures her good-humoredly.

            She leans forward, accepting his challenge as she balances her elbows on the corner of the table and dons a mischievous smile. Peeta unconsciously leans forward as well, ready to receive whatever secrets she might divulge.

            “I was helping clean a ninety-year-old man up the other day, and he wouldn’t sit still. I ended up with shit up to my elbows. Literally.”

            He has a good poker face, she’ll give him that much because he simply blinks at her confession. “You used extra soap when you washed your hands that time, right?”

            Katniss grins, opening her mouth to respond, but is cut off by a round of sudden beeps. Peeta swears under his breath, reaching under the table into his slacks and pulling out a little rectangular pager. He glances at the screen as the message flashes across it, and sighs heavily.

            “A patient in the ICU.” He shakes his head slowly. “I’m really sorry, Katniss.”

            “It’s alright,” she replies, too quickly, she worries, shrugging awkwardly and sliding back in her chair, “Can’t help it when duty calls, right?”

            He gives a half-hearted laugh, tossing enough cash on the table to cover the bill. “Unfortunately, no. Come on. I’ll drive you home before I head back to the hospital.”

            Peeta rises first, holding out a large hand, which she takes, and he leads her out of the restaurant. They separate briefly as they settle into his car, but his hand finds hers again, their fingers lacing as they come to rest on the center console. He gives her a sweet smile. They don’t speak on the short drive home, but Katniss doesn’t mind much. She doesn’t think she’d be able to form a coherent sentence with his hand so entangled in hers. Her nerves are on fire, burning first up her arm and through the rest of her body until she’s almost uncomfortably warm, her mind reeling.

            She’s pulled from her thoughts about exactly where she’d like his hand when he pulls up along the curb in front of her house. It strikes her that she didn’t have to give him a single direction to get back here. He’s remembered the way exactly after only one trip. “Thanks for coming tonight, Katniss. Sorry it ended so abruptly.”

            “It’s okay. I had a good time.” Katniss glances shyly at her hands before giving him a playful smile and adding, “And the food was pretty good too.”

            “So not the worst first date?” he asks playfully.

            “Is that what this was then?” she quips, bringing a broad smile to his face.

            The street light sends just enough light through the windshield, making his blond curls shine to match the spark in his eyes.

            He leans across the car’s console. “I was hoping it was.” He releases her hand so his own palm is free to find her cheek, his thumb brushing gently over the smooth curve of skin. His fingers weave into the roots of her thick, dark hair, warm against her scalp in the cool car.

            She leans into the touch, knowing that this will only make her life more complicated. It’s stupid, really, to get involved with Dr. Peeta Mellark, but she’s tried ignoring her feelings and clearly that hasn’t worked out very well.

            So Katniss is the first to move, her chilled lips, slightly chapped from her long hours at the dry hospital, warmer ones. Heat shoots through her veins as Peeta leans in closer, letting his fingers tangle more thoroughly in her hair. Her lips part invitingly, the warmth of his mouth sending quivering pulses down her spine. His tongue finds hers, and she lets out a quiet moan, one that Peeta responds to instantly. His free hand finds her waist and pulls her upper body flush to his chest. She would be uncomfortable, her body twisted over the console of the car as it is, if she weren’t so wrapped up in everything about him: his touch, his taste, that lingering sweet smell about him that is definitely not from the hospital.

            Katniss could probably get lost in him for hours, but another abrupt set of beeps pulls them apart. She’s slightly dizzy from it all, and her chest is heaving as she tries to catch her breath while Peeta reaches for the pager in his pocket again.

            His blue eyes find hers once the light on the screen dims, and there’s a look of honest regret in them that she wasn’t expecting but isn’t at all disappointed to see. It mirrors what she’s feeling at the moment, and it’s comforting to know she’s not crazy for thinking it.

            “I really need to go,” he murmurs apologetically, his fingers tugging at the tip of her braid as he rubs the sleek strands between his thumb and forefinger.

            “You do.” She agrees quietly with a nod, letting herself out of the car. “Go save lives.” She leans down once she’s standing on the curb beside the idling car, “Thanks for tonight. I had fun.”

            He smiles. “I’ll see you at work.”

            “Yeah.” She slams the car door behind her and making her way back to her small, dark house.

            Tonight has been an escape. An escape from her quiet, lonely life where she spends her evenings alone. Girls like her don’t have nights like this- at least not often. Because, sooner or later, whomever she gets involved with starts asking questions, questions she’s not ready to answer. Sooner or later they always want to meet her family, and Katniss just can’t handle the questions that would raise about her mother. Peeta Mellark is fun, but he’ll be more trouble than he’s worth, she’s sure of that.

 

…

 

            “Dr. Mellark won’t be rounding today,” Thom announces with a shake of his head as he settles the phone back on the cradle.

            “Seriously?” Katniss asks, torn between curiosity and exasperation. She needs orders on a patient whose electrolytes are all out of whack.

            “As a heart attack.” He grins cheekily. “Said that Dr. Odair will round for him on the new patients that got admitted overnight, but otherwise, if we need anything to call him.”

            “What a pain in the ass,” she mutters, hurrying out of the nurses’ station to deliver discharge papers to the patient in room fourteen, “Put a page out to him then.”

            “Gotcha.” Thom nods, quickly typing Peeta’s pager number for her.

            Katniss rolls her eyes. She’s already tired today and having to call for orders like this just puts the icing on the cake. She’d gone to Greenfields yesterday to see her mother, who still refuses to talk to her so she’d spent most of her time getting updates from Cinna. Still, she’d gotten home late, and she’s paying for it in spades today with as busy as she is.

            “Line one is Dr. Mellark for you, Katniss,” Johanna says, as soon as she walks past the nurses’ station again, arching an eyebrow suggestively at her. Of course, she found out about the little dinner date pretty quickly when Katniss came back to work several days later with an atypical smile on her face instead of her usual scowl.

            “You going to ask for a second date?” she questions. That’s the other thing Johanna hasn’t let go of since she first heard about the dinner.

            Peeta never mentioned the date, or dinner, or whatever it was afterwards. They saw one another at work several times, but he never hinted at that night and Katniss didn’t want to be the first to bring it up. Clearly he must have figured out what she had been trying to tell herself all along. She’s not at all a doctor’s type, and the last thing a guy like Peeta Mellark needs in his life is a girl with all her baggage. He’s maintained a professional relationship with her, but she can’t help but feel awkward around the man now. She must have somehow freaked him out.

            It was probably the kiss, if she is being honest with herself. Who the hell kisses like that on a first date- a date that might not have even been a real first date? Katniss Everdeen does, apparently. And she sends the men running for the hills. But, oh, had it been one mind-blowing kiss that she’d fallen asleep thinking about. She can still vividly feel his lips against hers.

            “Shut up.” Katniss grumbles quietly, both to Johanna and her own mind, shaking her head as she picks up the phone. Johanna laughs as she walks away, hips swaying slightly and catching the eye of a grandson walking with his grandmother, a patient admitted to Room Two.

            “Dr. Mellark? This is Katniss calling for orders on Miss Annabel Stinson in Room Eighteen.” She greets as soon as the phone is nestled against her ear.

            “Sure.” His chipper voice sounds far too nasally to be normal. “What do you need, Katniss?”

            Her chest tightens when he says her name. It’s ridiculous, and she knows it. She’s not some stupid little schoolgirl, but his voice, her name on his lips, does something to her even if he does sound like his nose is stuffed up. Even if he didn’t ever follow through after that night…

            “I- I, um.” She shakes her head. Damn him. Why can he always get her shaken up with just a sentence? She takes a deep breath, determined to be professional about this. “I needed to get orders from you about correcting her lytes. This morning her sodium was 126 and potassium was 3.0.”

            “Oh-kay.” He says just before a coughing fit seizes him. She waits, tapping her fingers against the counter, and eventually his voice returns. “Does she have fluids running?”

            “Normal saline at fifty an hour,” Katniss recites quickly, referring to the IV fluids that the patient has had running via a pump since she was admitted.

            “Let’s bump that up to one hundred- she doesn’t have any history of CHF or anything does she?” Peeta questions.

            She glances down at the short history she has on the patient, searching for any indications of heart failure, finding none. Being a hospitalist, Dr. Mellark doesn’t know his patients as well as rounding physicians typically would. He only cares for them while they’re on the unit, and Dr. Aurelius is their primary provider outside of the hospital. But Peeta’s good, Katniss recognizes that much. He asks the right questions.

            “No,” she answers once she’s flipped through her papers. “And her lungs were clear this morning for me.”

            “Alright, then set her on normal saline at one hundred and give her forty of potassium,” Peeta rattles off, his voice tired as he does. He really does sound terrible.

            “You want the potassium as a K-rider or oral?” she questions, jotting down the orders that she’ll have to put in once she’s off the phone.

            “Can she swallow?”

            “Yeah.”

            “Then let’s do that. I hate to put potassium through an IV on an older patient if we don’t have to.” He sighs. “Uh, go ahead and have her lytes drawn again tomorrow so we can see how well that fixes things. Anything else you need from me?”

            A reason why he never followed through after their date would be nice. But Katniss shakes that thought from her mind as quickly as it enters.

            She scans her papers but doesn’t see any other notes. “No. That should handle things.”

            “Do you have any of my other patients, Katniss?” He questions quietly from the other end of the line. Normally the doctors hang up almost before she can get the orders out of them even when they’re feeling well, which Peeta clearly isn’t. His attentiveness now is practically unheard of.

            “No, but Jo does, I think. I’ll forward you to her.”

            “Oh.” He sounds surprised, almost disappointed maybe. “Well, I’ll talk to you later then.”

            “Sure,” Katniss replies slowly before placing him on hold. She spins in her chair and announces, “Dr. Mellark is on line one to give orders for anyone who needs them.”

            Thom picks up almost instantly and starts his usual banter with the good doctor, leaving Katniss to mull over her interaction with Peeta. Why does he act like nothing ever happened? She couldn’t have been the only one who felt something that night. Why the hell didn’t he ever call her?

            “Poor guy,” Thom muses once he hands the phone over to Johanna who greedily wrenches it from his grasp. “He sounds terrible.”

            Johanna hangs up the receiver with a mischievous smile. “He does. Maybe you should take care of that for him, Katniss.”

            Thom arches an eyebrow curiously; he hasn’t heard about the dinner date. Yet, anyway.

            “Yeah, right.” Katniss turns in her chair to face her computer to continue charting. “Thanks, Jo.”

            Johanna thrusts a scrap piece of paper into her line of vision. “I even took the liberty of figuring out his address for you from the physicians’ contact information database.”

            “Jo!” She bats the paper away with wide eyes. “You can’t do that! That database is for administration only. How the hell did you even get in there?”

            She shrugs nonchalantly, twirling a pen in her fingers. “I called in a favor. Darius Miller, who just happens to be one of the IT guys downstairs, has been dying to have a go with me.”

            Katniss’s eyes widen more as the older woman shoves the piece of paper back into her hand, “So you said you’d have sex with him to get this?” Katniss hisses, holding the paper as though it’s tainted now that she knows what it took to get it.            “Please.” Johanna rolls her eyes. “I didn’t promise that man anything. But have you even looked at him?”

            She waits for Katniss to answer but smiles toothily when she doesn’t. “I wouldn’t mind if one thing led to another when we go out drinking on Friday.”

            “Jesus, Jo.” Katniss shakes her head, but she pockets the slip of paper anyway. No point in throwing it away if Johanna went through all that trouble to get it for her.

            “Oh, please, Brainless,” she cackles, “like you aren’t thinking the same thing about Dr. Blondie. I can see it in your face anytime I mention him.”

            “It’s not like that,” Katniss argue, cringing at the look Johanna levels her, telling her she’s not convincing anyone.

            Jo steps up close and lowers her voice so Thom won’t overhear her next words, “You should stop waiting around for him to make a move. I can tell you’re pissed he never called back, so you must like him. Stop worrying about what might happen if you two get together and just enjoy the ride. He made the first, now you reciprocate. He’s probably afraid to do anything more until you show some actual interest.”

            “I’m pretty sure I showed _actual interest_ when I let him kiss me after dinner!” Katniss spits, earning a snort from Johanna.

            “You realize that he’s probably afraid of sexual harassment claims, right? He’s in a position of power, and the last thing he needs as the new guy is some nurse pointing fingers if she ever feels screwed over by him.” Jo’s brown eyes meet Katniss’s grey ones in a steely gaze before she adds, “Buck up and make a move or someone else will. Probably one of those damn, perky pediatric nurses. You’ve seen how they are with their cartoon scrubs. Constantly adjusting their cleavage whenever one of the young, single doctors is around. It’s only a matter of time, Katniss.”

            She realizes that Jo is entirely right for once.

 

…

 

            Katniss knocks evenly on the ebony door and waits, listening for the telltale rustling of the apartment’s occupant and trying her best not to look as completely out of place as she feels.

            She had nearly changed her mind when she pulled up in front of the swanky apartment building, but though she’s loath to admit it, Johanna had a point. She’s going to make a move (and quite possibly make a fool of herself in the process), but at least this will give her some sense of closure. The worst thing he could do is turn her away.

            A slow, quite shuffle can be heard through the door, followed by the dull click of the deadbolt before the door opens just enough for the heat to come pouring out of the apartment.

            “Yes?” A miserable, nasally voice that sounds vaguely like Dr. Mellark asks.

            “Hey,” Katniss mumbles, scuffing the toe of her shoe against the carpeted floor of the hallway. “You sounded pretty sick today when I called for orders, and I thought you might be in need of some food.”

            Katniss blushes furiously as one blue eye framed by his familiar glasses pokes around the edge of the door. She might not be able to see most of his face but she can easily discern his surprise.

            “Katniss?” His voice is almost comical it’s so stuffed up and squeaky.

            “Yeah. I – well, it sounded like a good idea at the time. I never feel like cooking when I’m sick-“

            “Sure!” he squeaks, a cough punctuating his exclamation as he swings the door open all the way. “I just wasn’t expecting anyone. Come in.”

            Katniss steps inside, toeing off her shoes and letting Peeta shut the door behind her as she takes in the roomy apartment filled with clean-cut furniture. There’s a comfortable, lived-in air to the place, one she wouldn’t necessarily expect from a doctor’s home.

            “How did you know where I live?” Peeta questions after the door is locked again.

            Katniss turns to get a good look at him for the first time since arriving, and she has to place a hand over her mouth to hide the smile tugging at her lips. He looks awful in that pathetic, sick puppy kind of way. His hair, naturally messy anyway, looks like it hasn’t seen a good brushing in days, curls sticking out like corkscrews around his head. He has an old afghan thrown around his broad shoulders, giving him the appearance of a sickly superhero. It’s his nose that really gets her though. It’s bright red, probably from the excessive use of tissues over the last couple of days.

            “Jo has friends who helped her out.” She replies evasively, hoping it will be enough to drop the subject.

            He smiles shyly, “What?” A hand appears from under the cover of his afghan and pats at a portion of his hair, though it does nothing to tame the mess there.

            “She knows a guy who works in the IT department,” she confesses, her eyes dropping guiltily to the carpet between their feet. “He apparently has a thing for curvy brunettes.”

            Peeta snorts, though it comes out more as a wheeze with his nose so stuffed up.

            “That could get you all in a load of trouble.”

            She glances up, the sparkle in his eyes letting her know he doesn’t plan to report anyone.

            “It wouldn’t be Jo’s first time in hot water.” She informs him, worrying her bottom lip lightly with her teeth.

            He looks as though he’s about to say something when quickly reaches for a tissue just before a powerful sneeze seizes his entire body.

            “You look awful.” Katniss admits readily once he recovers. It doesn’t occur to her until afterwards that perhaps it isn’t the best way to win him over if he’s still having doubts about whatever this is between them.

            Peeta simply laughs, which quickly turns into a wheeze that leaves him groaning, pressing the palm of his hand to his forehead. “I feel like crap.”

            “You should sleep. You’ll never get better if you don’t.” She makes her way into the kitchen area so she can unpack the soup she bought from Sae’s on the way over. It’s hard to miss the dark circles that hang under his eyes.

            “Thank you, doctor,” he replies with a smirk, pulling his blanket more tightly around his shoulders and following her towards the kitchen. “That’s why I took today off, but the coughing kept waking me up.”

            Katniss nods, pulling the Styrofoam containers out of the brown paper bag. He snorts softly and she looks up to see him eyeing the containers skeptically.

            “Is that from Sae’s down the street?” he questions, an amused look in his tired eyes as they look up to meet hers.

            “Yeah, why?” Her brow furrows as she finishes unpacking the bag.

            “Nothing.” He shrugs. “It’s just that usually people bring their grandmother’s homemade chicken soup for sick friends.”

            Her grey eyes meet his curiously. She’s so entirely confused. What does he want from her? Are they friends? Does he want to be more than friends? Did he think that kiss was a mistake?

            “Trust me,” she replies after a moment’s hesitation, “you wouldn’t want to eat my grandmother’s chicken soup. I’m pretty sure it was never chicken she used. Anyway, Sae’s has the best food around, so I thought it would be safer than giving you experimental food I’ve cooked, especially on a sick stomach.”

            “Consider me warned,” he says, reaching for a Styrofoam container of soup and grabbing a plastic spoon. He blows on the top of the cup before spooning a bite into his mouth. His eyes widen as he stares down at the container in his hand. “This is good.”

            “The best,” Katniss smirks. “Now you should get back to your couch so you can convalesce like the true man you are.”

            “I take offense to that,” he retorts, but he’s already halfway back to the seat that Katniss suspects he’s inhabited since his flu struck. There’s a box of Kleenex perched at the edge of the coffee table and a wastepaper basket right below that with several tissues littering the ground around it. He tucks himself back into the corner of the couch, his blanket still pulled tightly around his shoulders as he spoons more soup into his mouth, slurping loudly.

            Katniss tugs her bottom lip between her teeth as she tries not to laugh. He really is a typical man right now, dying from the common cold.

            “Well…” She lets out a long breath, swinging her hands awkwardly, “I guess that’s all I came here for so… I’ll leave you to it.”

            “You’re going already?” Peeta asks, glancing up over the tops of his glasses. His blue eyes plead with her to stay, even though it’s against her better judgment, even though he’s the one who’s been blowing her off. The last thing she needs right now is to catch the flu, but she can’t say no to him. She doesn’t want to say no to him.

            She shrugs. “I guess I don’t have to. What do you have in mind?”

            He reaches into the pocket of his sweats and pulls out the familiar black rectangle. “Up for a game? That’s about all I can handle today.”

            A smile plays at her lips as she joins him, settling on the opposite end of the couch and tucking her knees up towards her chest. Peeta grins, making his red-nosed face appear that much more goofy.

            “Doesn’t really matter. I’m going to kick your ass anyway.” Katniss states assuredly as she opens the app up on her phone.

            “You should be careful talking smack like that.” He arches an eyebrow, staring at her like she’s morphed into someone else right before his eyes.

            “It’s not talking smack. I saw your game with Finnick the other day.”

            “Whatever.” He shakes his head but can’t wipe the grin off his face in spite of himself. He holds up the phone so she can see the screen, “What’s your name?”

            She rattles off the letters and numbers of her username and seconds later a request to play Words With Friends pops up on her screen.

            She opens the program and frowns at his initial play. She fucking hates it when people play short words like that. It doesn’t give much opportunity for her to build off.

            “Run?” she demands. “Seriously, Peeta? You’ve got a medical degree, and the best you can come up with is ‘run?’”

            He shrugs nonchalantly. “Maybe that’s my strategy.”

            “Sure, if your strategy is to suck.” She spits back as she plays the word ‘TRIBUNAL’ off of his ‘U,’ earning three times the points he did after using a double word tile.

            Peeta snickers, but it quickly turns into a cough that he covers with a tissue. They play in relative silence for the rest of the game, Katniss occasionally snorting or rolling her eyes at his plays. Peeta chuckles at her disdain when he continues to play short words. But a smile still plays at his lips even as she becomes increasingly absorbed with winning.

            “Are you kidding me?”

            Peeta lets out a raspy cackle, because somehow he’s managed to surpass her score by fifteen points, and Katniss only has one letter left to play.

            “What?” Peeta asks with mock innocence, trying his best to hold back his laughter. “Quasi is a real word.”

            “Peeta, you’ve been playing shit words the entire game.” She kicks his side playfully with her right foot, “You can’t just whip that out on the last play. It’s cheating.”

            “Kicking your opponent is probably considered cheating too,” Peeta replies, grabbing a hold of her foot before she can take it back, “This is a no contact sport after all.”

            She tugs her foot gently, trying to pull away from his grip, but he doesn’t let go, instead letting his thumbs go to the arch of her foot, pressing gently. The touch sends a blush instantly to her cheeks, and Peeta’s eyes darken as he watches her, continuing his attentions.

            Katniss’s eyes nearly roll into the back of her head at the sensation. After being on her feet all day, running up and down the halls carrying a never-ending line of medications to her patients, Peeta’s touch is like a little bit of heaven.

            His fingers slide up to her ankle, massaging the tendons that stretch tautly against the smooth skin there. He tugs gently, guiding her to slide closer to him, which she does without hesitation. His tongue darts out to wet his lips. A languid heat spreads through her veins at the sight. His fingers probe softly against her calf, pulling a whimper from the back of her throat.

            “Peeta,” she whispers, unsure of what she wants to say as those blue eyes look up at her through those frames. But she’s spared from figuring it out when her phone pings abruptly.

            His hands still as she tenses, tugging her leg back from his grip and turning to sit with her feet on the ground in front of the couch. She reaches for her phone where she left it on the cushion beside her, opening the message.

 

Cinna 6:48 PM

Your mom is asking for you. I’ll keep her up after curfew if you think you can make it out here sometime tonight.

 

            Katniss closes her eyes once she reads the message. Her mother always has the best timing; it never fails.

            “Everything okay?” Peeta asks from beside her. The heavy heat that was in his gaze only moments earlier is gone, replaced by the easygoing look he usually wears.

            “Yeah,” Katniss replies with a heavy sigh as she stands slowly. “I just have somewhere I need to be.”

            He nods his understanding and follows her to the door once she slides her shoes back on, “Thanks for stopping by, Katniss. It was the best surprise I’ve had all day.”

            She smiles, “That’s not saying much seeing as how you’re on your deathbed with the plague.”

            “It was the best surprise I could have asked for,” he chuckles, glancing at her shyly as he runs a hand through his mess of curls.

            “I guess that’s a little bit better then,” Katniss replies with a blush. “I’ll see you once you’re feeling better.”

            “I hope so.”

            Katniss shoots him a smile over her shoulder. What she wouldn’t give to turn and go back to him. What she wouldn’t give in this one moment to have a normal life, a life where she doesn’t get texts from a psych nurse who she almost knows better than her own mother.

            But that isn’t her life. So she quickly makes her way out of Peeta’s apartment building, heading towards Greenfields as fast as the speed limit allows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you for reading. Please feel free to let me know what you thought. And if you’d like, you can find me on tumblr at therebelliondies.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so terribly sorry for the massive delay on this chapter. I was going through some things that left me too drained to even consider writing on most days. I appreciate all your patience and support while I struggled to get this chapter ready and I hope you all find it to be worth the wait!

            The ride home tonight is a quiet one. Lily Everdeen has never been one for music during car rides, and Katniss usually tries to ease her back into the noise of the outside world once she’s discharged. The only sound other than the beat-up sedan’s motor is the clicking of her mother’s nails against one another as she picks them ragged. Katniss sighs every so often just to fill that void of empty, silent space.

            She’s not sure why she still gets like this every time her mother comes home from Greenfields. It’s always unsettling for a few days, as though both women are walking on thin ice, waiting to see if the bottom will drop out again. No matter how many times they do this, Katniss always expects everything will come crashing down around them again right away when in reality it usually takes a few months for things to get bad again.

            “It’s warm out,” her mother states flatly. It’s not really that warm. The snow has mostly melted, but it’s still near freezing outside.

            “Yeah,” Katniss agrees because it’s just easier that way.

            Silence fills the space again until she pulls up along the curb in front of their home. Katniss cuts the engine, but neither woman moves to get out of the car. Everything is so fragile right now; Katniss is so frightened that she’ll say one wrong thing, make one wrong move that will set her mother back from all the progress she’s made over the last week.

            “I thought I would make us beef stew for dinner. I know it’s your favorite,” her mother offers quietly, still picking away at her already jagged nails. Katniss fights the urge to smack her mother’s hands like she would a petulant child.

            “Sounds good,” Katniss replies as she finally gets out of the car. In all actuality, Katniss doesn’t like beef stew that much. It was always Prim’s favorite, not hers. But Lily Everdeen has always struggled to remember details such as these about her daughters. Katniss figures it’s difficult to remember little things like that when you’re in and out of hospitals the entire time your daughters are growing up. She tries not to hold it against the older woman.

            Katniss opens the door to the old house and lets her mother pass inside first. Lily breathes in deeply, a tender smile tugging at the corners of her mouth when she turns to look at her eldest daughter again.

            “It looks nice.”

            Katniss shrugs. She hasn’t done anything to it since her mother left besides clean it up a bit. Her mother had taken to shopping during her most recent manic episode and the place had looked like the dwelling of a true hoarder before they managed to get Lily committed again. “It’s clean at least,” Katniss offers with a smile that she suspects looks more grim than inviting.

            Lily nods slowly as she heads wordlessly for the kitchen. Katniss eyes the older woman until she rounds the corner into the back of the house. Her mother seems serene, peaceful in a way Katniss has never seen her and it leaves her feeling wary of the entire situation. Cinna had explained they started her mother on a new medicine, one meant to stabilize her mood using different neuroreceptors than any of the medications she’s previously tried. It seems too damn good to be true. The fix can’t be that easy. 

            Katniss hurries off to her room to call Prim. It only rings twice before her baby sister’s voice comes over the line. “Hey, Katniss! It’s been a while since you called.”

            Katniss can hear voices in the background and she decides to try and make this conversation short. Prim has made a life for herself away at school: a normal, stable, happy life, and Katniss doesn’t wish to impede on that with news of their mother’s latest discharge from the psych facility.

            “Yeah,” Katniss says as cheerfully as she can manage, “Things have been busy here. Um, Mom got out today. I thought I’d just give you a ring and let you know that.”

            “Really?” Prim sounds dismayed and the voices in the background fade. The sound of a door closing lets Katniss know that her sister has left the room so she can speak more freely. “Why didn’t you tell me she was getting out? I would have come home.”

            Katniss shrugs even though she knows her sister can’t see her. “You have classes to worry about. It’s not like this is a one-time deal.”

            She hears Prim huff a frustrated sigh. The younger Everdeen has always given their mother the benefit of the doubt. She always allowed herself to hope that this would be the last time, this would be the time that their mother’s meds were perfect and she wouldn’t relapse again. Katniss gave up on that hope a long, long time ago. She figures it’s an inevitable fact of her life that she will forever be following her mother to and from the psych ward.

            “Still, I would have liked to have been there when she came home,” Prim argues. “You know it’s important for her family to be her support system once she’s out.”

            Katniss rolls her eyes. Of course she knows that. How many years had they both accompanied their mom to family therapy?

            “I know,” she relents with a tired sigh. “I’m sorry. I just worry about you having too much on your plate. I know how busy they keep you with your rotations. I know it’s almost impossible to take time off. Today wasn’t an emergency, Prim. Save your time for when you really need it.”

            There’s a long, pregnant pause before Prim says anything else, her voice softer than before when she asks, “How are you, Katniss? You sound tired.”

            “Fine,” Katniss replies too quickly, “I’m doing good.”

            Neither sister is fooled. She’s been trying to hide it from Prim, but everything involving their mother is wearing her down. Some days she feels as though she should be sixty years old the way her body aches from the worries.

            “What do you do to de-stress at the end of the day?” Prim questions, her medical training taking over. Katniss tries not to roll her eyes. Her baby sister is just trying to look out for her, but she doesn’t want to be picked apart and diagnosed.

            “I don’t know, Prim. Whatever everyone else does, I guess,” Katniss replies, her irritation edging into her tone.

            “Oh, so you drink at the end of the day like Uncle Haymitch?” Prim retorts coolly. Katniss closes her eyes and presses her fingers against them to will away the impending headache.

            “No, I don’t. I’m not Uncle Haymitch.” Katniss assures quietly. “Usually I just come home and watch some television or whatever. Happy?”

            Katniss doesn’t mention a certain blond haired doctor whom she wouldn’t mind using to relieve some stress. Prim would only make a big deal out of _that_ entire situation. Katniss isn’t even really sure where she stands with Doctor Peeta Mellark. Technically they’d only kissed that one time in his car, but she would definitely sign up for another—and more.

            “I guess,” Prim relents before quietly adding, “I just wish you would make some friends. You’re still young. You deserve to enjoy life, sis.”

            “I’ll work on it,” Katniss replies, noting the sound of her mother setting the table. “Listen, Mom is making dinner and it sounds like she’s about done, so I’m going to let you go. I’ll talk to you again soon, okay?”

            “Sure. And make sure you don’t wait weeks to call again this time. Love you, Katniss. Tell Mom I said hi and I love her too.” Prim says quickly as though she’s rushing to fit everything in before Katniss just hangs up on her.

            Katniss chuckles lightly. “Alright. Love you too, Prim. Bye.”

            She quietly makes her way to the dining room where her mother is just setting the stew on the center of the table. When she’s smiling like that, she looks so much younger, more like the woman Katniss remembers from when she was a toddler. Illness has prematurely aged them all, Katniss fears.

            “Prim says hi and she loves you,” she reports as she settles down across from the fair-haired woman.

            “Oh.” Something akin to disappointment flashes across her face before she smiles up at Katniss. “That’s nice.”

            The rest of dinner passes with hesitant pleasantries. Katniss tells her mother her work schedule for the week. Lily mulls over possibilities for dinner tomorrow night. It’s a rather intricate dance they’ve both perfected over the years. Once Lily is finished eating, Katniss follows her into the kitchen and doles out the handful of pills that she needs to take nightly.

            “Thank you,” Lily says softly as she takes them all in one swallow.

            Katniss nods, going about loading the dishwasher without another word. Lily heads to her room, the one she once shared with her husband before everything truly went to shit in their family. A chill pulses through Katniss’s veins at the thought and she pushes it down, deep down where it belongs. She knows it wasn’t really her mother’s fault that her father died when Katniss was just in high school. Still, every so often her mind decides to kick her right in the gut and remind her that if her mother had been more stable perhaps her father wouldn’t have been so stressed. Maybe his heart wouldn’t have just given out at such a young age. It’s all useless to contemplate however and she slams the dishwasher shut, punching the buttons quickly.

            Her phone buzzes when she returns from the bathroom dressed in an old t-shirt and flannel pants a little while later. She glances at the glowing message on the screen that shows one missed call and a text reading:

 

Peeta 9:48 PM

Hey, must have missed you for the night. I haven’t heard from you in a while. Thought maybe we could catch up tomorrow night?

 

            She closes her eyes tightly as she flops down on her bed, clutching her phone firmly to her chest. She hasn’t seen or spoken with Peeta since the day she left his apartment so suddenly over a week ago. He’s been off duty and she’s been spending so much time at Greenfields preparing for her mother to return home that she’s hardly had any time to think about anything else, especially her love life—or whatever it is going on between her and Peeta.

            Lifting the phone from her chest, she slowly types back her message.

 

Katniss 10:17 PM

That sounds great, but I’ll have to see how the day progresses. I might have some things to take care of.

            She doesn’t wait for his response before she turns off the device and tosses it on her bedside table. Pulling the blankets around her, she tries her best to quiet her mind and all of its rushing thoughts. It’s going to be a long night if she can’t slow down.

 

…

_“Lily, what is all of this?” Daddy demands when he walks into the bedroom. He doesn’t notice Katniss where she sits in the center of the giant bed surrounded by bags from the stores Mommy took her to early this morning._

_“It’s not a big deal.” Mommy shrugs as she continues putting away the pretty dresses she bought. She flashes a brilliant smile at him. “I got excellent deals on everything. Don’t worry.”_

_Daddy frowns as he steps up close to her, pulling a dress from her hands. He looks angry. Katniss hates it when her daddy looks angry._

_“You can’t keep doing this,” he says quietly in that tone he only uses when someone is in trouble. “We can’t afford it. I’m already picking up extra shifts at the mill as it is. You can’t keep up like this or we’ll lose the house.”_

_His words make Katniss sad, and she nestles in deeper between the bags. She likes this house and Daddy sounds very worried. He has more lines on his face today than she can remember from before._

_“Why is it always my fault, James?” Mommy spits back, her lips curling into an ugly snarl as she does. “You always blame all of our troubles on me, but you never look at yourself—”_

_“I’m not the one going around buying things I don’t need all day, Lily!” he shouts, tossing the dress onto the bed, only narrowly missing his tiny daughter. Katniss whimpers quietly, curling in on herself, trying to disappear. She doesn’t like it when her parents fight. This has been happening more and more lately, but this is the first time they’ve yelled at each other while she’s in the room._

_“Have you been taking the medicine like you’re supposed to? Maybe you need to see the doctor and have him change things up again—”_

_“Shut up! Jamie, shut up!” Mommy screeches, throwing her hands over her ears, falling to her knees on the floor. “I’m not sick! I’m fine without the medicine!”_

_Daddy’s face grows dark as he kneels down in front of her like he does when he wants to tell Katniss something serious. “Lily, when did you stop taking your pills?”_

_Mommy doesn’t answer, and Katniss wonders if Mommy has done something wrong done something wrong._

_“Sweetheart,” Daddy whispers sadly, reaching one of his big hands up to her mother’s cheek, “You need to take your medicines. You remember what the doctor said. You’ll end up in the hospital again if you don’t take them —”_

_“I don’t need them!” she insists._

_“You do!” Daddy shouts, causing Katniss to flinch. He never shouts like this. “Lily, you do need them. Remember what the doctor sai—”_

_“It doesn’t matter.” Mommy cries, slinking against Daddy’s chest with a sob. She was so happy earlier. This morning she’d taken Katniss by the hand and they had practically skipped through the mall with one another._

_Her narrow, fragile form shudders against Daddy as she cries now though._

_“I can’t- I can’t keep doing this, Jamie.” She sobs, grasping desperately at his shirt. “I never a- asked for a-any of this.”_

_“I know, darling. I know—”_

_“I didn’t mean to get p-pregnant.”_

_Daddy presses a kiss to her forehead, brushing back the pale hair from her forehead._

_“We’ll be okay, Lily.” He gathers her into his arms. “You just have to stay on the medicines that you can like the doctor said so you won’t relapse. The baby will be alright. You just can’t keep doing things like this. We can’t afford to live like this.”_

_Katniss stays very quiet while Daddy continues to murmur softly into Mommy’s hair. Neither one of them notices her as she slips off the bed and slinks out the door, holding back tears. She doesn’t understand why her Mommy is so sad now when she was so happy today. She thinks she must have done something wrong. Daddy was angry that they went to the mall. Maybe Katniss should have tried to stop Mommy._

_She tucks herself into bed tonight, and no one comes looking for her. Even as her eyes drift shut a long time later, Katniss can still hear Mommy and Daddy whispering to each other in their room. She’s certain she must be at fault for what happened today._

           

…

            “I’m going into ten,” Thom informs Katniss as he passes by her seat at the nurses’ station with his hands full of pills. “If I’m not out in fifteen minutes, call me and rescue me.” He holds up one of the cell phones used on the unit by the nurses so they are available in case a doctor calls or a critical lab result needs to be reported.

            Katniss chuckles, refraining from the eye roll that she so desperately wants to send his way. She’s exhausted. Her dreams were restless all last night, and she felt as though she hadn’t slept a wink when her alarm went off. But at least census is low today, meaning there are fewer patients on the unit than normal and therefore there’s a bit less work to do. Because of this, they only called in Thom and her. Johanna is at home on low census. It makes for an easier day with the group of patients she has since they aren’t as needy as usual.

            “She’s just a little old lady, Thom,” Katniss points out, trying her best not to laugh at him. “Just tell her you have another patient you need to check on.”

            “She thinks the stuffed monkey is _real_ , Katniss.” Thom’s grey eyes grow wide and a shiver runs through his body proving just how disturbed he is by the elderly patient. “I swear, if she asks me to pet the monkey one more time, I’m making you take care of her for the rest of the shift.”

            “No way!” Katniss argues with his retreating form as he makes his way down the hall to the patient’s room. “She only wants you to _pet her monkey_.”

            Thom gags involuntarily, throwing Katniss a disgusted look before ducking into the patient’s room leaving Katniss to the unusual silence of the nurses’ station. She taps away at the keyboard as she updates the charting on her patients.

            “That doesn’t sound like any way to talk to your coworkers.”

            Her body shivers as his breath warms the back of her neck. Large hands come to rest on the desk on either side of the keyboard before her. He breathes in deeply before letting out a rush of warm air against her cheek, allowing the fingers of his right hand slide over to find hers, sending an electric shock up her arm.

            “It’s dead up here today,” he observes, his voice hushed even though they’re clearly alone.

            “Census is low. Everyone is still at home besides Thom and me,” she offers, trying not to lean back against the warmth of his chest. She pulls her hand from his and lets them come to rest on her lap. “You shouldn’t do that, Peeta.”

            “Why not?” His tone holds a hint of amusement as he continues to press closer to her. That earthy smell laced with something that’s so specifically Peeta surrounds her and she thinks it’s quite possible that she could drown in him. Lucky her that it would happen in a hospital so at least help would be nearby.

            “Someone might see,” she explains flatly, struggling to piece together the sentence as her thoughts become hazy, earning a throaty chuckle from him.

            “Who’s around to see? Sounds like Thom is occupied with a monkey right about now.” He spins her chair to face him and she rolls her eyes, trying to ignore the way his blue irises twinkle behind the dark frames of his glasses. “Besides,” he adds, clearing his throat slightly as he straightens up, “I figured I’d have to corner you if I ever wanted to see you again.”

            “I—”

            “You’re a busy woman.” Peeta smiles softly. Katniss is thankful that he doesn’t sound angry with her at least. She’d been so irritated with him when he didn’t call her after their first date she expected he would react in much the same way.

            “So how are things going today?” he questions, pulling her away from her silent musing. “Do you think you’ll have time to catch up or do you have _things_ to do?”

            “I… I was serious about that, Peeta,” she stutters, cheeks flushed a rosy tint under his attentive gaze. “I have a lot on my plate right now.”

            A frown creases his brow, and he settles his broad frame in a chair beside her. “What’s going on?” he asks, his tone laced with concern.

            She doesn’t like the look of worry on his face. It bothers her that his eyes aren’t lit up in the way she’s become so familiar with.

            “It’s nothing.” She forces a smile to her lips. “Just busy is all.”

            His hand finds hers where they still rest in her lap. She lifts her gaze to meet his curiously, “So does that mean you don’t have time to spare me an hour or two?”

            “That woman is fucking insane!” Thom’s expletive acts like a gunshot, sending the two whispering forms at the nurses’ station reeling apart from one another.

            Peeta recovers quickly from the surprise and stands, splaying one broad hand over his shirt, smoothing out the ruffled fabric with a grin. “That’ll be one of the patients I’m seeing today, correct? I always get the strangest ones.”

            Thom fills Peeta in on the older woman’s fixation with the stuffed monkey she keeps in her room, but Katniss doesn’t hear much of what either man is saying. Instead she finds herself fixated on the way Peeta moves his hands while he talks. Normally she finds it distracting when a person is waving their hands around as they tell a story, but somehow his movements are so subtle it only adds to his meaning, providing emphasis when needed and easing the intensity of a phrase if necessary. She finds herself fascinated by the steadiness of them hiding the pure strength and precision that any good doctor is known for.

            It’s not until Peeta glances over at her with a smile that she realizes he’s noticed her staring. She shakes her head with a blush and turns back to face her computer, resolutely ignoring both men now.

            Peeta leaves to visit the elderly patient a few moments later, and Thom collapses into the chair beside her.  She can feel his gaze on her and her cheeks begin to burn again. When she can’t take it any longer she turns to him, finding a curious look about him when she does. The dark-haired man doesn’t wait for her to ask him why he’s staring though. “What’s going on between you and the doctor?” His grey eyes narrow at the same time that Katniss’s grow wide.

            “Whatnothing!” she squeaks, turning the two words into one in her rush to get them out. A grin slowly spreads across Thom’s lips as he crosses his arms over his chest, leaning back in his chair as he does.

            “Nothing, huh?” He smirks, staring at her like some arrogant asshole. She wishes she could wipe that look off his stupid face. He’s reminding her an awful lot of Jo today and the pestering is not something she has missed.

            Katniss stands abruptly, nearly knocking her chair over as she does. “Nothing,” she repeats adamantly before hurrying off to the med room to retrieve some antibiotics for two of her patients.

            By the time she returns to the nurses’ station, Peeta has already left the unit to see his other patients in the hospital. Thom doesn’t grill her anymore about the blond doctor but she catches him staring at her several times with that silly little smirk on his lips.

 

…

 

            “She has a right forearm twenty-two gauge IV running normal saline at one-twenty-five an hour,” Katniss says as she looks over the sheet with details about one of her patients. The night nurse beside her nods, quickly scribbling notes on her own paper while Katniss continues to debrief the other woman. The shift passed with little excitement. Thom’s monkey patient only asked him to pet her monkey once more, and Katniss can’t remember a time his face has ever been redder when he left a patient’s room.

            “Is she up ad lib or is she a standby assist?” the other nurse questions.

            “Ad lib.” Katniss replies at the same moment that her phone rings from deep in the pocket of her scrubs. She sighs heavily, ready to chuck the blasted phone across the nurses’ station. She hates these damn phones more than anything else. Although today hadn’t been particularly bad, there are some days that she feels as though she can’t get anything done because the phone is ringing constantly while she’s trying to provide patient care.

            “Six north this is Katniss,” she answers curtly, in no mood to receive new orders when she should be giving report and finishing up her shift.

            “Katniss, it’s Peeta.”

            She’s certain her eyes grow wide, betraying her surprise at hearing his voice, but thankfully the other nurse is still occupied with her note writing.

            He clears his throat on the other end of the line when she doesn’t answer and continues, “Can I meet you by the side entrance where you usually leave in about a half hour?”

            He hadn’t mentioned anything more about meeting up once he returned from seeing Thom’s patient this morning. He had merely chatted pleasantly and written a progress note before heading off to see his other patients in the hospital.

            But apparently he hadn’t forgotten that he wanted to take her out. Or meet up with her. Or just talk.  She’s not entirely sure what he’s expecting to do with her. Her cheeks flush when she silently admits she wouldn’t mind pretty much anything he might want to do with her.

            “Yes?” Her voice lifts at the end and she cringes at the questioning tone.

            “Okay.” She can hear him trying to hide his laughter from the other end of the line. “I hope you’re hungry.”

            She lets out a short laugh before admitting, “I’m always hungry.”

            The night nurse turns to her with a skeptical look and a blush rises along Katniss’s cheeks for what feels like the thousandth time today.

            “I need to go,” she says softly, hoping he understands that this is the kind of conversation can’t be heard otherwise people will start wondering, and when people wonder, they start to talk.

            “Alright,” he agrees happily, “I’ll see you in a bit.”

            The line disconnects before she can say another word and she offers the night nurse an unsteady smile. “My sister. She’s cooking dinner.”

            The other woman nods and Katniss gives a silent sigh of relief, her answer seeming to have appeased her for now. Report is finished quickly since there are so few patients today, and Katniss quickly gathers her coat from the break room before making her way to the side entrance that Peeta indicated.

            She spots him easily, leaning casually up against her car several yards away. His gaze is focused on the phone in his hand, and a smile plays lightly at his lips while he types away at the screen.

            “Hi,” she greets, crossing her arms over her chest as he glances up at her.

            A broad grin finds his lips. “Hey!”

            Katniss toes the pavement nervously. His smile makes her stomach twist in a not at all unpleasant sort of way, but she’s certain that he can see the effect he has on her and the thought alone is embarrassing.

            He reaches a hand out towards her. “Let’s get moving. We’ve only got ten minutes.”

            She frowns. “Where are we going? Am I driving?”

            “It’s a surprise. And not if you give me your keys,” he replies in turn, a contented smile still pulling at his lips. She narrows her eyes but hands over the keys. She barely knows him, but his driving was okay the last time he took her home and it’s not as though her car is really worth much as banged up as it is.

            He plucks the keys from her palm and grins, placing a hand at her elbow and guiding her to the passenger door. Katniss can’t help the chuckle that escapes her lips when he unlocks the door, jimmying the keys just so so that the lock pops and he can open the door for her. After she’s safely shut inside, he hurries around to the driver’s side and buckles in before cranking the old engine.

            The radio starts up and Katniss rolls her eyes as the familiar tones of the latest teen pop song start up. She doesn’t even wait for the ridiculous lyrics to start up before reaching to change the station.

            “Whoa!” Peeta’s exclamation startles her and she hesitates, her fingers hovering just above the buttons.

            “What?” she demands, looking over her shoulder for some semi that surely must be about to hit them judging by his reaction.

            “You’re crossing into some serious territory there.” He nods at her hand.

            “Please.” She snorts in disbelief. “You can’t tell me you actually enjoy listening to this garbage. Besides it’s my car.” Her eyes narrow and she changes the channel to one that is playing the latest acoustic hit from some singer she forgets the name of.

            “I’m driving though. Driver trumps owner.”

            “Bullshit,” she retorts quickly, resting her head back against the seat with a smug look.

            Peeta’s eyes narrow, trying his best to look stern, but she can see him biting at his bottom lip, trying to hold back a smile, which he fails at miserably the second his laughter fills the car. His hand reaches across the seats to find hers, their fingers tangling gently.

            Katniss tries not to think about the way her nerves light up at his touch. She tries to ignore the way her palm warms against his. But she doesn’t pull away from his touch, instead letting her thumb brush against his as they make their way down the busy main street. Peeta pulls off a few minutes later, parking in one of the last spots along the side of the street.

            They’re in front of a tiny little shop with white and blue awnings over the windows. The lights are turned down and Katniss can see the chairs already flipped up on the tabletops.

            “Looks like we’re too late,” she states, turning back to see Peeta giving her a playful smile.

            “Nah,” he says easily, releasing her hand as he gets out of the car. Katniss already has the door open by the time he reaches her side and takes his proffered hand with a chuckle.

            “Just hang here for a minute. I’ll be right back,” he says quickly, ducking in and pressing a gentle kiss to her cheek before she has a second to process what he’s doing. He jogs into the shop without a second glance, leaving her standing there speechless, mouth gaping slightly.

            She’s not entirely sure why it shocks her so much. It’s not as though she didn’t kiss him the first time he took her out. She supposed she just wasn’t expecting things to pick back up so easily. She’s surprised that he doesn’t seem to have any resentment towards her for practically disappearing on him after that afternoon they spent at his apartment.

            Katniss pulls out her phone, checking her messages. There’s one from Prim, checking to see how things are going at home. Another from Cinna checking in on her mother. And three more from Lily Everdeen herself, wondering how work was going, wondering when she was planning to be home, asking if she would want to have dinner together.

            She sighs heavily, hitting the buttons to dial her mother’s cell phone. This is normal. There’s always an adjustment period after her mother is discharged from the hospital. Lily Everdeen always needs to find herself again in the noise and haste of the world outside those soft, cream-colored walls where she feels safest and until she does, she latches onto Katniss like a helpless child.

            “Katniss,” her mother answers after one ring. Her voice sounds pleased, as though she couldn’t quite expect her daughter to call her back. “Did you get my messages?”

            “Yeah, Mom,” Katniss replies softly, “I won’t be home until later tonight. Just go ahead and have dinner without me, okay?”

            “Oh.” There’s shuffling of pans in the background. “Alright then. Are you okay? Do you want me to fix you a plate so you can heat it when you get home?”

            “No, that’s okay,” Katniss says, trying to ignore the nagging feeling she always gets when she leaves her mom alone like this right after she gets home. “I’ll pick something up while I’m out. I’m not sure how late I’ll be.”

            “Is everything okay?” The worry in her mother’s voice is obvious.

            “Yeah, Mom, everything’s good,” she assures the older woman. It feels as though she’s been doing this ever since she was a little girl. “I’ll see you when I get home.”

            Her mother says her goodbyes and Katniss ends the call just as Peeta walks out of the shop again carrying a pizza box and a paper package in one hand. A breeze catches the food’s scent and Katniss groans as the aroma fills her.

            “I figured you’d be up for just about anything and this is the best pizza in town,” he informs her as he opens the car for her again and settles the food in the back seat.

            “You’d be right,” she agrees easily once he pulls away from the curb and heads in the direction of his apartment. “The cafeteria didn’t really have anything edible in the way of food today.”

            He shoots her a goofy smile, pushing the dark frames of his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. It’s a quick drive from the pizza parlor to Peeta’s apartment, and they ride in relative silence save for Peeta occasionally humming along to the song on the radio.

            His apartment looks almost identical to the last time she was here. The only difference she notes is the lack of tissues surrounding the black leather couch. Peeta sets the food on the counter and pulls out a roll of paper towels, slapping them on the counter with a proud smile.

            Katniss arches an eyebrow in question.

            “Dinner is served,” he says without ceremony as he pulls out a cheesy slice of pizza and stuffs half of it into his mouth in one bite.

            She laughs in spite of herself, stepping forward to pull a paper towel off the roll before taking a slice for herself. “You’re a true bachelor,” she observes before taking a bite. If he wasn’t so damn endearing, she might find it in herself to be insulted that he doesn’t think she’s worth a plate. But who is she kidding anyway? She just uses the pizza box itself as a plate when she’s home alone.

            Her eyes nearly roll into the back of her head as the flavors flood her mouth while she chews. He was right. This is damn good pizza. And Katniss should know. She’s eaten at nearly ever pizza place in the city.

            “A bachelor. What’s that supposed to mean?” he retorts once he’s finished off his first slice of pizza and pulls a breadstick and a container of marinara sauce out of the paper package he had also carried out of the restaurant.

            “It means that you’re a real romancer, Peeta Mellark.” She snorts and takes another bite, savoring the blend of sauce and cheese. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a man feed me off of paper towels before.”

            “It’s all the rage in France right now,” he replies smoothly, passing her a breadstick despite the half eaten slice of pizza in her hand.

            “Right.” She rolls her eyes, laughing as she does. His eyes light up at the sound, watching her closely. A blush flushes her cheeks, spreading like wildfire under his gaze.

            “Do you want a plate?” he questions earnestly, glancing over his shoulder at the row of cabinets, one of which is sure to hold the dinnerware in question.

            She shakes her head and stuffs a huge bite into her mouth, earning a satisfied grin from him in the process.

            “My kind of girl.” He winks before proceeding to rapidly down another slice of pizza. She wonders how he can even breathe while he’s eating like that—and also if this blush will ever leave her cheeks.

            “So,” he starts as he grabs two cans of Coke out of the refrigerator behind him, “what have you been up to? You’ve been MIA for, like, two weeks now.”

            She stuffs a bite of breadstick into her mouth and shrugs, giving herself time to come up with some reasonable excuse for her disappearance. There really isn’t one, though.

            “I’ve just been busy with family stuff. My mom hasn’t been feeling her best.” It’s not a lie at least. Katniss knows she can’t lie worth a damn.

            “Really?” Peeta frowns, concern filling those blue eyes that she’s become so familiar with over such a short period of time. “Is she feeling any better now?”

            “Yeah.” She nods slowly, “She’s getting there. What about you? What exciting things has Dr. Mellark been up to?”

            “Nothing.” He laughs as though the very thought that he would be doing anything of interest is unbelievable. “Just working a lot. When I come home, I go to sleep and then do it all over again.”

            “I think saving lives constitutes as _something_ ,” she argues, playfully kicking his leg beneath the counter.

            He arches a pale eyebrow in response. “You of all people should know it’s usually nothing like that.”

            Katniss laughs because she knows exactly what he means. The days where one feels as though they’ve actually saved a patient’s life are far and few between. That perception is largely media based.

            “You know,” Peeta continues, leaning across the counter so his face is only inches from hers, “we’ve known each other for ages now, but I really don’t know much of anything _about_ you. You’re still every bit the mystery you were when I met you, Katniss Everdeen.”

            “Two months doesn’t really count as ages, I don’t think,” she retorts easily, dipping a piece of breadstick in the marinara sauce between them before shoving the messy bite past her lips. “What do you want to know?”

            “Everything,” he replies without a moment’s hesitation. She glances up finding him staring down at her with unexpected intensity, the blue of his irises darker than normal.

            She coughs in surprise, nearly choking on her food in the process. She practically cringes from embarrassment, but Peeta laughs. Her cheeks burn under his stare and she scowls at him as his final chuckles die down. Reaching a thumb out, he quickly swipes at the corner of her lips.

            “You had a little.” He holds out his thumb to show the red sauce that must have gotten on lip in the process of stuffing her face.

            Peeta gives a cheeky grin and licks his thumb clean, never dropping his gaze from hers as he does. Something coils warmly inside of her at the sight and she doesn’t think it has anything to do with the delicious meal she just had.

            Slowly, Peeta makes his way around the counter, turning Katniss so her back is pressed up against the cool granite once he comes to stand in front of her.

            “Thanks,” she whispers, suddenly breathless as his hands find her hips.

            He gives her a crooked little smile while his thumbs work circles against her pelvic bones. His smell is intoxicating just as it was this morning and Katniss finds herself unable to think clearly.

            “You know, I’ve been dying to get you like this since that first night I took you out,” he murmurs, bending slightly so his lips brush the shell of her ear when he speaks. “You ran out so quick the last time you visited I didn’t get the chance.”

            She shivers involuntarily, turning slightly so she can meet his gaze. He’s only inches away; she could lean just a bit forward and she would be kissing him. She wants to say something. She wants to explain why she left so abruptly that day. But she knows that they aren’t ready to go there yet—if they ever will be. So instead she takes a shaky breath, trying to ignore the trail of goose bumps his fingers are leaving against her skin.

            “Sorry,” she whispers breathlessly, letting a hand find its way up his torso to weave in the tangle of golden curls atop his head.

            His eyelids droop heavily behind the frames of his glasses and he makes a throaty sound that Katniss hopes is a sign of forgiveness before he dips his head, his lips finding hers.

            She melts against him, allowing his hands to explore as they roam against her waist, along her ribcage, tentatively brushing the underside of her breasts. Their lips meld together as he sucks the tender skin of her bottom lip between his, nipping lightly at it before laving his tongue against it. Katniss mewls quietly, digging her fingers against his scalp and earning a deep moan from him as she does.

            She feels his rapid heartbeat pounding in his chest where it’s pressed tightly against her own and she wonders if he can’t feel her own heart beating frantically as his hands map her body.

            His lips release hers and she lets out a quiet whine that earns a throaty chuckle from him. He brushes a hand against her dark hair before pressing a quick kiss to the crown of her head.

            “We should slow down. We’re supposed to be catching up,” he suggests, slightly breathless as his hand finds hers. “I’ve just wanted to do that since the day you came to visit me when I was sick.”

            His tongue darts out against his bottom lip briefly before disappearing again and something deep inside Katniss’s belly clenches at the sight. Damn. When did she start wanting him this badly?

            “Will you stay and watch a movie or something?” he asks cautiously, his blue eyes peering out from beneath their dark frames like some hesitant schoolboy when only moments before he’d been ready to take her right there against the kitchen counter.

            Katniss worries her lip for a moment before nodding. “Sure. But only if it’s a good one.”

            Peeta smiles playfully, tugging gently at her hand that’s still wrapped snuggly in his own as he guides her to his couch. She plops down on the cushion, more than willing to let him cue up whatever movie they choose after a long shift spent on her feet.

            He turns the television on and pulls up Netflix, choosing some new rom-com that Katniss has never heard of before he settles in beside her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. Gently, as though fearful she’ll push him away, he tugs her closer until she settles her cheek against his chest while he toys with the end of her braid. The movie is mostly lost on her as she focuses on the soft brush of his hand against her side, right near her breast. She wonders what he would do if she guided his hand just a little lower.

            His chest rumbles with laughter when the male costar of the film somehow manages to lock himself out of his apartment and has to ask the old cougar lady next door to help him get back inside. Katniss smiles, but not because she finds the movie particularly funny; she likes the sound and feel of his laughter more. It makes her insides flutter in a way she’s never felt before.

            Her eyelids grow heavier as the film continues and she relaxes more against Peeta’s firm, warm chest. At one point he leans over, brushing his lips against her hair lightly before straightening up again.

 

…

 

            She wakes up completely disoriented to the muffled sound of her ringtone. She doesn’t understand why the hell someone would be calling her in the middle of the night. Everyone knows she goes to bed early since she works early hours. Katniss snuggles into the warm sheets below her until she realizes that they aren’t sheets at all. Peeta gives a sniffle when she sits up suddenly, but he doesn’t wake. She glances around with bleary eyes, the Netflix screen lighting up the room too brightly for her liking. She fumbles her way to the kitchen where her phone is still ringing in her bag.

            “Hello?” she asks, not bothering to look at the screen before answering the call.

            “Catnip, where the hell are you?” Gale’s gruff voice asks from the other end of the line.

            Katniss frowns, glancing at the neon numbers flashing on the stove across from her. 2:48. Shit.

            “I’m—um—I’m at a friend’s place,” she mumbles quietly into the receiver. The last thing she wants to do is wake Peeta. “I’m heading home now.”           

            “What do you mean you’re at a friend’s place?” he demands, sounding tired and irritated all at once. “I called Jo and she didn’t have any idea where you were. Your mom is a mess, Katniss. She thinks you’ve left.”

            Her heart plummets to the ground with his words. Closing her eyes, she takes a deep breath to try and gather herself. Of course her mother must have called Gale when she woke up for her late night glass of water and saw that Katniss still wasn’t home.

            “What did you tell her?” she asks, her voice trembling with worry as she attempts to tug on her jacket one-handed.

            “I told her that I’d find you,” he states exasperatedly. I told her there’s no way you’d leave her.”

            Katniss heaves a sigh of relief, thankful that Gale has been a part of her life for so long. He knows how to handle her mother and all the fears that come with her illness.

            “Thank you. I’m leaving now,” she says before hanging up, still struggling one-handed with her jacket.

            She nearly screams when a large hand grasps her wrist, pulling it back until it finds the sleeve that she was looking for. Turning, she finds Peeta looking down at her with a perplexed, still half-asleep gaze.

            “You don’t have to leave you know.” He frowns and runs a hand through his messy curls as she reaches for her purse. “You could stay the night. I won’t try anything funny. Promise.”

            She shoots him a weak smile. “I have to go. I’m sorry.”

            And she really is. She would give just about anything to snuggle against his chest and play with his tangled hair until they both fall asleep again. Unfortunately that really isn’t an option.

            His forehead scrunches up. “It’s late. You shouldn’t be driving home.”

            “I’m alright,” she assures him as she pulls on her shoes. “I’ve driven when I was more tired than this before. Thank you for tonight. It was really nice.”

            “Does that mean you’d do it again sometime soon?” he asks with a lopsided smile.

            She nods, stepping up and quickly placing a kiss against his lips, still soft from sleep. “Definitely.”

            “Will you tell me why you’re rushing out again the next time I see you?” He suddenly sounds ten times more awake than he had only moments earlier and Katniss freezes.

            “Maybe,” she replies softly, her silver eyes finding his in the dark room.

            He knows.  She can tell he knows she’s hiding something, but he’s a decent enough guy not to pry, and her heart melts a little bit more for Peeta Mellark because of it.

            He steps forward instead and pulls her to him, his strong arms encircling her narrow waist deliciously. Her hands come to rest naturally on the back of his neck, and he stares at her. She can’t find the words to ask so instead she tugs at the fine hairs at the back of his neck until he lowers his lips to capture hers.

            Her heart thuds strongly against her chest as she nips lightly at his lips, but the kiss is over almost before it began and he presses one last, chaste kiss to her lips before stepping back. She stands, momentarily stunned until she shakes her head and backs further out the door.

            “Bye, Peeta,” she says, biting her bottom lip to try and mask the goofy smile pulling at her lips.

            “Goodnight, Katniss.” He smiles brightly, giving her a little wave when she turns around once she reaches her car.

            The moment she reaches the first red light on her drive home, she lets her head fall to the steering wheel with a thud. She must be the only grown woman who still has to hurry home like she has a curfew. God only knows what Peeta must be thinking about her grand exit tonight.

            Her phone vibrates on the seat beside her and she answers it, already knowing exactly who is calling and she tries to keep the bitterness from her voice.

            “I’m on my way home, Mom. Don’t worry. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please feel free to let me know what you thought! I love hearing from you. As always, you can find me on tumblr at therebelliondies.  
> A special thanks to Court81981 for taking the time to beta. She’s just the best and if you aren’t reading her stories, you should be. She’s not only a great person, but a fantastic writer.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. You’re responses to this story are just astounding! Thank you all so much for your support and kind words. It means so much to me to hear from you all. This story is definitely a labor of love and very close to my heart so to know that people are enjoying it makes me so happy. This chapter gets pretty intense, but I hope you all enjoy it.

_Present_

            Gale is leaning up against the kitchen counter when Katniss arrives home a short while later. Her mother is pacing nervously until her wide, blue eyes land on her eldest daughter, at which time Lily Everdeen freezes.

            Katniss shrugs, knowing her mother wants some sort of excuse, but sharing where she was tonight would really only make matters worse right now so instead she lies. “I had to stay late at work. The next shift was short-staffed, and they needed an extra set of hands for a few hours.”

            She can see Gale cross his arms over his chest in her peripheral vision, and she knows that he’s nowhere near as convinced as her nodding mother.

            “Of course,” Lily sighs with relief, her shoulders sagging as she does, giving away her exhaustion. “It didn’t even occur to me that you might be there. I thought – I thought that maybe you’d –“

            “I know, Mama,” Katniss murmurs, placing a hand gently on her back and guiding the older woman upstairs towards her bedroom. “Everything is okay though. I’m here. You should get to bed; it’s late.”

            Lily seems to accept this, leaning over to press a soft kiss to Katniss’s temple before ascending the stairs. Gale waits for the soft click signaling that they’re alone before starting in on her.

            “So are you going to tell me where you really were tonight?” he questions gruffly. His hair is disheveled, and there are dark circles beneath his eyes; he’s exhausted that much is clear.

            “Why are you here again?” Katniss retorts tiredly as she drops into a chair at the kitchen table, propping her heels up on the chair across from her. She’s avoiding his question and they both know it. If there’s one bad thing about being best friends since they were in diapers, it’s that Gale can read her like an open book.

            “Your mom sounded like she might do something rash if I left her here alone, so I came,” he reminds her, lifting her feet and taking the seat across from her before replacing them on his lap. “Who the hell were you with that you don’t want me to know about it?” His grey eyes narrow, searching her for any tick that might give her secret away, but she crosses her arms stubbornly across her chest and looks at the wall behind him.

            “I know I screwed up, okay?” she replies softly. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep and be out so late. It won’t happen again.”

            She feels as though she’s being reprimanded. This is the sort of interaction that she should be having with her father, not her best friend.

            “Catnip?” he questions in _that_ tone — the one that she can’t deny no matter how hard she tries.

            Her silver eyes flit towards him, meeting his own in question.

            “It’s a guy, isn’t it? Why are you keeping him a secret?”

            He’s hit the nail on the head, and her cheeks flush as she ducks her gaze. She shrugs silently, staring at her fingers laced together. There’s no point in trying to deny that there is a _him_ ; Gale would call her out in a second.

            Gale sighs softly, reaching a calloused hand out to cover hers. She hesitates before gaining the courage to look up again, finding the concern she expected to see in his eyes.

            “You remember what happened last time.”

            It’s not a question. Of course she remembers. How could she forget? Her last relationship had left her shattered for months, a shadow of her former self. She’d sworn to herself she’d never do that again, yet here she is.

            “Are you sure you want to go there again?” he asks softly, his tone nonjudgmental but worried all the same.

            “I don’t think I have much of a choice,” Katniss whispers before finally admitting to herself, “I’m already in too deep.”

            Her wide, grey eyes search his for some answer to the mess that she’s gotten herself into. She’s not like other girls her age. Peeta doesn’t even know what he’s getting himself into, and she should really spare him from the chaos that her life has become, but she can’t find the strength in her to just walk away.

            “I really like him, Gale,” she confesses, her words barely audible in the silent kitchen, but she knows he’s heard her when his grip tightens over her hands.

            “Then if he’s worth it, he’ll stay. You shouldn’t hide everything, Catnip.”

            Katniss frowns. She can only hope that Peeta won’t be scared away easily. She wouldn’t fault him if he walks away once he learns all of her secrets, but she’s not sure she’d be able to recover from it. Last time she let someone in, a disaster; she’s not sure she could handle losing Peeta the same way.

            “You need to have someone around that you can talk to. What’s the point of keeping the guy around if it’s just going to make you keep more secrets?” Gale questions, breaking the contemplative silence that has settled between them. Katniss looks up curiously, but he just gives her that knowing smirk. “I’m not here as much as I was; I know that, Katniss. I’m not such a shitty friend that I don’t realize that Madge is taking up more of my attention lately.”

            “I didn’t blame you –“

            “I’m not saying that you did,” he interrupts her before she can finish, “but you still need someone to vent to. It’s not healthy to keep everything bottled up. Didn’t they ever teach you that during nursing school?”

            He levels her with a pointed look and she can’t help the smile that pulls at her lips. If there’s one thing she’s always been able to count on, it’s Gale’s no-nonsense attitude when it comes to calling her out on her bullshit.

            “How is Madge?” she questions, watching the tender smile that overtakes him at the mention of his new fiancée’s name. He had bought the ring over a year before he actually grew the balls to ask her, and Katniss still has no clue why it took him so long. They’re a great match for one another: Madge is quiet and grounded, but she can give Gale what-for when his temper is out of line, which is more often than not, in Katniss’s opinion.

            “She’s good,” he admits contentedly. There is always such a softness about him where Madge is concerned. “She’s planning like crazy for the wedding, but she seems to be enjoying herself.”

            She nods, pulling her feet from his lap and standing, hoping to end this night soon so she can go collapse in bed. Gale follows her lead but grabs her hand before she can turn away from him.

            “You’re good, Catnip, but not that good. I’m not going to forget that you haven’t told me a thing about him.” His grey eyes search her face intently, but she refuses to give anything up.

            Kaniss shrugs. “I’m just not there yet, Gale. You’ll learn about him when I’m ready.”

            Her tone closes the discussion for now. Leaning forward, he briefly presses a kiss to the crown of her head before slipping past her towards the front door.

            “You’ll take care then?” he questions, his face serious. He worries too much about her. “You’ll call if you need anything. Even if you just need a night off and you don’t want to leave your mom alone?”

            Katniss rolls her eyes but nods, “I will. Or I could call Prim so I don’t have to bother you.”

            He snorts at this. “We both know you’ll never call and ask Prim to come hurry back here to take care of your mom. Asking me is enough of a stretch of the imagination.”

            “Fine,” she relents as he steps out the door, “I’ll call you if I need you, alright?”

            Gale gives her a smug grin before waving goodbye and heading to his truck parked along the curb. Katniss finds herself shaking her head slightly as she turns off the kitchen light and makes her way to bed. It’s not likely she would call Gale up just so she could have a night alone with Peeta. She’d never hear the end of his taunting, and she’s not about to give him a free pass to poke fun at her.

 

…

 

_16 Years Old_

            Katniss’s eyes flit towards the door as the school principal silently signals for her history teacher to come closer. They murmur quietly to one another for a few moments, both adults turning away slightly so their lips can’t be read by curious students. She looks around to see that she’s not the only student whose interest has been piqued. 

            The principal turns back towards the class once he’s finished speaking with her teacher and his eyes land on her. “Miss Everdeen, I need to see you in my office right away.”

            She stands slowly and heads towards the door, but he stops her with a quick gesture and somberly directs, “Gather your belongings; you won’t be coming back.”

            Her classmates all turn to stare at the quiet, slight, dark-haired girl that they’ve never really taken all that much notice of until this moment. A round of ‘ooohs’ echoes throughout the room, and Katniss doesn’t doubt for a minute that there will be rumors flying about what indiscretions she’s committed before school finishes for the day.

            The principal’s leather shoes click down the hallway in front of her while she silently follows in his wake. He doesn’t say a word until they both enter his office and Katniss notes the school’s guidance counselor tucked away in the corner. Instantly she knows she doesn’t want to be here; she’s trapped. The hairs on the back of her neck prickle as she backs away towards the door once more.

            “Katniss,” the guidance counselor starts in that calm, sympathetic tone that grown-ups all seem to have mastered, “There’s been an accident –“

            Her vision goes hazy as darkness encroaches, but Katniss blinks several times, dragging a couple deep breathes before the haze starts to retreat again. An accident. What does that even _mean_? She only hears pieces of what the woman in front of her is saying now.

            “ – your father collapsed at work—” Her heart beats frantically in her chest as though trying to keep both her _and_ her dad alive. “ – was rushed to Capitol Memorial –“ She needs to leave; her family needs her now. “ – emergency surgery –“ She shakes her head. She can’t believe this is actually happening.

            “I need to go,” she chokes out the words before walking out of the office. A hand closes around her arm when she’s already halfway down the hallway, and she tries to wrench herself from its grasp. Where is Prim? She needs to get her baby sister. Their dad needs them.

            “Your uncle is on the way to pick you up, Katniss,” the counselor says, twisting her face into a look of practiced sympathy as though she’s trying to prove that she knows how the younger girl is feeling. Bile rises in her throat and she just knows she’s going to puke. Katniss runs from the woman to the nearest bathroom before slamming herself into a stall and heaving, losing the entire contents of her meager lunch.

            She’s not sure how much time passes before a heavy set of footsteps echo against the tiled walls and a loud knock reverberates around the stall. She’s still clinging to the porcelain bowl, staring blankly at the years of old graffiti on the tan stall wall.

            “Come on, kid,” Uncle Haymitch’s gruff voice carries through the thin walls. “We need to get to the hospital. Your mom’s already there, and she’s a mess.”

            But Katniss can’t go because she just has this terrible feeling in her gut that things aren’t going to be okay. Things haven’t been okay in a long time, and if she loses her father today, she isn’t sure she’ll be able to get through it. He is her rock; he’s the only thing that has been keeping their family afloat through her mother’s episodes. If she goes to the hospital, then that means all of this is real, and she’s not ready for that yet.

            When she doesn’t respond for several minutes, Haymitch’s fist comes down harder, shaking the stall. “Katniss! Let’s go! You know your mom can’t handle being there alone. All the stress is going to set her off.”

            Her nerves fray at the very thought that she should be more concerned about her mother right now. Why does everything always revolve around Lily Everdeen? Her father is fighting for his life, and she’s supposed to be worried about her mother losing her mind _again_?

            “Katniss?”

            It’s Prim’s frail voice that brings her back to reality. Poor, sweet Prim who must be even more terrified than Katniss is. Somehow her body begins to move and she opens the door. She glares wordlessly at her drunken uncle before following him out to his beat-up station wagon. Prim’s hand finds its way into hers, and neither sister is able to let go for the entire ride to the hospital.

            Haymitch speaks with their mother in hushed tones when they find her huddled up in the surgical waiting room. The older woman looks like she’s aged years since Katniss left for school this morning. Haymitch keeps looking over at the girls every so often, his grey eyes filled with a concern Katniss has never seen in them before, but her own mother never spares them a glance.

            It is hours before a doctor in scrubs comes out wringing a facemask between his hands. He speaks softly to her mother, but Katniss’s stomach drops when she takes in his face. This man doesn’t bring any good news for them. She watches as Lily Everdeen collapses into the nearest chair and the doctor settles in beside her. Haymitch remains standing, scrutinizing the scene before him with a frigid scowl that looks so much like his elder niece’s.

            Katniss gently lifts Prim’s head from her lap where she cried herself to exhaustion earlier this evening. The grown-ups don’t notice her approach until it’s too late and she hears what they’re discussing.

            “We attempted the reperfusion, but there was already so much damage to the tissue by the time we got in…” the doctor trails off before softly adding, “It’s really a miracle he even made it to the hospital alive, Mrs. Everdeen.”

            Her throat feels like it’s caving in and she can’t breathe. A ringing starts in her ears, getting louder with each beat of her heart.

            “I know this is a lot to take in, but your husband is still a full code right now, meaning we will do everything in our powers to try and save him. I think when he wakes up from anesthesia you should seriously discuss DNR status. His heart won’t be able to sustain his body for very long given the damage. You need to decide whether he wants us to try and bring him back when his heart does give out or if he wants us to let him go peacefully.”

            A hand snaps to her mouth and Katniss backs away with a whispered, “No.”

            It’s quiet, but not quiet enough to evade her uncle’s sharp ears. Pain flashes behind his gaze when his eyes land on her, but Katniss is already hurrying away, somewhere where no one will hear her scream because it’s building and boiling and bubbling up and she’s about to lose it just like her mother always does. Maybe they’re more alike than she ever would have cared to admit.

            She tries to push him away when his arms wrap tightly around her. Somehow she made it outside the hospital near the garage where the ambulances are all parked. One is idling nearby and the engine echoes loudly in the stark space, but her screams pierce the air all the same.

            “Let go!” she shrieks, tearing blindly at the sleeves of his shirt as she tries to free herself from his grip. “I don’t want you! Leave me alone! I hate you!”

            Eventually her screams dissolve into one prolonged, sad moan before she collapses into his chest and lets his arms hold her up as she weeps into his shirt. He smells of stale whiskey and Katniss is sure he hasn’t showered in a week, but right now he’s the only one holding her by a thin thread, keeping her from drifting off into insanity.

            “Shh,” he breathes against the crown of her head, “shh, sweetheart. I’m so sorry.”

            The sobs wrack her entire body until she is exhausted, until there are no more tears to be shed. Her body is dried out. She is numb from the pain and the terror of what the future now holds for her.

            “Haymitch, what’s going to happen?” she asks piteously, hoping he’ll have a different answer than the only one she can think of – a better one.

            The sorrow in the look he gives her tells her everything she needs to know. Her father is going to die.

            A few days later, she can hardly remember what life was like before she lived at the hospital. The stark, white hallways have become far too familiar. The nurses all know her by name. She hates it.

            Levophed. That’s the name of the drug that hangs from the IV pole now, dripping slowly. It’s the only thing keeping her father alive. It keeps his blood pressure high enough to sustain life, the nurses tell her. But it won’t work forever. Her father’s heart is too weak.

            The left side of his heart took the brunt of the damage. That’s the side that pumps the blood out to the rest of his body and maintains a blood pressure. Without it, he won’t have good enough blood flow to his vital organs to stay alive. It’s only a matter of time; she can see it in the way the nurses and doctors look at him.

            A nurse comes in now to check the line that leads into his artery. It’s called hemodynamic monitoring. It lets them know how well the drug is working. Katniss has decided she’s learned far too much about anatomy and medical science in the last several days, but every nurse seems intent on explaining exactly what they’re doing and why they’re doing it.

            She couldn’t care less because none of it will save her only hero.

            They said this had been happening inside his body for a long time, that the plaque has probably been there for years and it just now occluded the entire vessel on that hot summer day while he was working in the factory. But Katniss still catches herself wondering if the stress of looking after her mother was what finally got to him.

            Her father doesn’t wake up often; his body is too worn out to do much other than exist, so when his eyes flutter open this morning, Katniss’s heart swells with a bittersweet happiness.

            “Hey,” he greets, glancing quickly towards the board that has the date and the name of the day-nurse taking care of him, “I missed your birthday, didn’t I?”

            She looks to the board and realizes that she turned sixteen yesterday. She spent the day in the hospital, but yesterday was a bad one and her father didn’t wake up at all. She had completely forgotten about the important date.

            “Where are your mother and Prim?” he questions. He looks so frail in the bed, but he smiles brightly when she tells him they’re down in the cafeteria for lunch. “Good. I want some time alone with my birthday girl.”

            Katniss tries to give him a smile, but it falters on her lips. She just can’t find the energy to pretend that everything is okay.

            “Gosh,” he whispers after a silent moment, reaching out a cool hand to her cheek, “when did you grow up? I swear it was just yesterday I was helping you into your little red coat.”

            She chuckles half-heartedly. “I loved that coat.”

            “I know.” He smiles contentedly, his grey eyes crinkling at the corners just before tears start to well in them. “I’m so sorry, Katniss.”

            She shakes her head, biting her lower lip to hold back the tears that she swears she should have run out of by now but somehow just keep coming. “What are you sorry about? You didn’t do anything, Daddy.”

            “I – “ He sighs heavily, the tears finally flowing down his cheeks. “I just wish I didn’t have to leave you so soon. I wanted to be there for you while you grew up.”

            Katniss has never seen her father cry before. She hates it.

            “Don’t be like that,” she admonishes with a shaky voice as she wipes softly at his tears with the pads of her thumbs, “Don’t act like you’re going anywhere.”

            The heartbreaking smile he gives her will haunt her for the rest of her life, of that she is certain.

            “I love you so much, Katniss,” he says softly, reaching out for her hand and holding on tightly. “I wish I could stay, but I think we both realize that this—” He lifts his arm to show the IV site that the Levophed is running into. “—is the only thing keeping me around right now. And I know you’ve heard what the doctors keep telling me and your mother.”

_Another couple days maximum. He won’t see the end of this week._

            Her face crumples as the words repeat themselves in her mind. He tugs at her hand, and she climbs into bed beside him, taking care not to pull any of the many wires or tubes connected to his failing body.

            “Come here, baby,” he murmurs, pulling her as close as possible and snuggling her under his chin like he always used to when he would read her bedtime stories. “Just try not to be too sad forever, alright? I know you, and I know you’ll be sad for a long time, but I don’t want you to be afraid to be happy one day.”

            “I’d be happier with you,” she cries against the awful green hospital gown covering his chest.

            “I know,” his voice trembles, and she’s sure that if she lifted her head to look up at him he would be crying again. “I know, and I would be too, but I don’t think we get that as an option.”

            She clings to him, afraid that if she starts to pull away, even for a fraction of a second, he might be taken away from her for good. She’s not ready to lose him. She doesn’t know how she can navigate this world by herself.

            “Just look out for your mother and sister for me,” he whispers tiredly. A stab of guilt strikes her as she realizes that this whole conversation is probably taking its toll on his body, quickly wearing him out. “And let your uncle help you. It won’t be charity, okay? He’s family.”

            “Okay,” she whimpers, trying her hardest to sound brave though she sure that neither of them is fooled.

            They make the decision to stop the Levophed drip the next day and Katniss can practically hear his heart give out as the minutes pass. But maybe that’s just her own heart falling apart and then turning to stone as his body turns cold and he leaves this world, and her, behind.

 

…

 

_Present_

 

            Katniss wakes feeling numb and exhausted, something she’s come to expect over the years. Her birthday has never been the same without him. There’s a message waiting for her on her phone from Prim, who woke up early just to wish her a happy birthday before heading to the hospital for rounds.

            She avoids celebrating her birthday in every way she can and Prim seems to be the only one left on this earth determined to fight her on the matter. Uncle Haymitch gave up on that years ago and her mother usually doesn’t ever make it out of bed. In fact she usually spends most of this week in bed every year. There’s something about the vivid memory of her father’s death that drains any happiness she might get from the day.

            This morning her mother’s door is shut and the house is quiet as she pads down the hallway to the bathroom. It looks as though no amount of medication will ever alter Lily Everdeen’s behavior surrounding the anniversary of her husband’s death, but even Katniss admits that it’s probably too much to ask for. After all, she’s never handled the date well herself.

            She mulls about the house for most of the day, cleaning the already clean counters and reorganizing her DVD collection by year of release rather than alphabetically. It doesn’t do much to keep her mind occupied, however, and by the time dinner rolls around, she’s ready to tear her hair out by the roots. Damn her manager for giving her today of all fucking days off. Normally she works just so she doesn’t have to sit around thinking about _everything_.

            There’s a bar a short drive from her house, and Katniss decides that is the perfect place to spend her godforsaken birthday. By the time the sun sets, she’s already several rounds in and just as miserable drunk as she was sober.

            The bartender keeps eyeing her when he comes to refresh her glass of rum, her poison of choice since the day she turned seventeen and snuck some from Haymitch’s collection all those years ago. 

            “You have tequila here?” she slurs out, leaning forward on the counter to be heard over the ridiculous country music blaring over the speakers. The rum just isn’t doing enough for her tonight. She wants to be fucking snowed out. She wants to wake up tomorrow feeling like death—because that’s what the day will already bring.

            “Sure, babe.” He grins as he reaches for the tall bottle of the clear drink. She cringes at his tone, certain that he thinks there’s a chance in hell that he’ll get tail tonight.

            “Make it a double,” she adds. She’d rather not remember tonight at all if this guy is going to be a part of it.

            At some point, things just blur out. Katniss doesn’t know where she is or why she’s there anymore. In fact, she’s not even sure she has a body at all. A cool hand wraps around her clammy arm and pulls her out of her seat at the bar.

            It’s not until a chilly burst of air hits her face that she realizes she needs to puke. Desperately so. Her stomach heaves, and luckily there’s a potted shrub near where she’s standing. It burns like hell, but her body doesn’t stop until there’s nothing left in her stomach. She looks up and sees an older woman standing beside her, probably the hand that pulled her out here in the first place.

            “Who are you?” she asks, her words barely coherent even to her own ears, but somehow the other woman understands.

            “I’m the other bartender and you’re cut off,” she states sharply. “I can’t believe that idiot kept giving you more when you’re white as a sheet. You need to call a ride to take you home. I’ve got your keys with me at the bar. Whoever comes to pick you up can get them from me when they get here.”

            With that, the woman steps back through the open door to the bar and leaves Katniss to her own devices. The night is calm but not overly warm; however she’s still drenched with sweat. That’s how she knows she’s pretty far gone—that and the fact that she can’t remember the last hour or two.

            She pulls out her phone and decides to bite the bullet sooner rather than later. The phone rings several times before it picks up, “Katniss?”

            “Jo, I need you to come get me,” she says, her tongue heavy and thick, making it harder and harder to speak.

            “I can’t,” Johanna replies, her tone laced with concern. “Katniss, where the hell are you? You don’t sound normal. Are you drunk?”

            “Yes,” she admits in a tiny voice as she leans against the wall of the bar and sinks down to the ground. “I need to leave.”

            “Did you try Gale?” she asks. “I picked up extra at work because they were short-staffed tonight. I can’t leave or I’d be there in a second.”

            “He’s on a trip with Madge,” Katniss says and is completely mortified by the tremor in her voice. She sounds as though she’s about to cry. “It’s okay, Jo, I’ll figure something out, alright? Don’t worry.”

            She hangs up before her friend can hear the sobs that start to choke her. Her phone begins ringing almost instantly, but she doesn’t look at it. Katniss can’t stand the thought of anyone hearing her like this. Jo’s seen her drunk plenty of times, but she’s never seen her cry.

            Several people walk by her as they leave the bar and they all whisper quietly as they pass the pathetic, crying, drunk girl. She’s too far-gone to even care though. At this point, she just wishes the ground would open up and she could die.

            A car pulls up to the curb sometime later, and she doesn’t think much of it until a set of leather shoes with double-knotted laces step into her vision. She wipes hastily at her eyes, but the tears fall as quickly as she can wipe them away so it doesn’t do much good. Her gaze only makes it to his hands before she realizes _exactly_ who is standing in front of her, and she hates herself all the more for it.

            “Katniss,” Peeta murmurs softly as he lowers himself to one knee so he can meet her gaze. His blue eyes search her face and she looks away, unable to stand the pity she finds there. “Hey,” he reaches out, lifting her chin with a finger and forcing her to look at him again, “are you okay?”

            His words shatter her like a hammer to glass. “No,” she chokes out in a sob.

            His brow furrows, marring the otherwise smooth expanse of his forehead. Katniss hates that she makes him so worried. He takes her hands in his and lifts her to her feet with ease. She sways unsteadily, but he wraps an arm around her waist before guiding her to his car and settling her into the seat.

            “M – my keys,” she manages to stutter.

            Peeta somehow understands what she means and hurries inside, returning a moment later with the silver ring dangling from his finger. Around the time he starts the car and pulls away from the curb, Katniss has to close her eyes to keep everything from spinning around her. The darkness takes her away then into a blissful unconsciousness that doesn’t hold any dreams or memories.

 

…

 

            It’s still dark when Katniss opens her eyes. She shifts slightly to look around despite the headache splitting through her skull right now. The clock says 4:30. How long has she been out?

            A set of arms tighten around her waist and she freezes, looking over her shoulder into a set of eyes that are still a brilliant blue in the dim lighting of the room.

            “Hey,” he greets, his voice still rough with sleep, a sound that makes her body perk up considerably. “Welcome back.”

            “What happened?” she questions, pressing her fingers to her puffy eyes, still gritty from all her tears. She still remembers all the tears from earlier at least, although everything else seems to have disappeared from her memory. “Did we – what did we do?”

            He snorts softly, releasing her waist as she sits up, trying to maintain what little dignity she has left. “Nothing. Although, you were pretty determined there for a little while. Luckily you passed out again before you could get my pants undone. I don’t think my way with words was ever going to persuade you to stop.”

            “Oh, fuck,” she mutters, her cheeks flaming with embarrassment. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d thrown herself at an attractive guy when she was trashed, and Peeta is definitely attractive.

            He laughs easily, sounding not at all bothered by her horrid display. He’s still fully dressed, she observes, in spite of her best efforts at disrobing him apparently. The blue button down he’s wearing is one she’s never seen before and the charcoal pants cling nicely to the thick muscles of his thighs.

            She frowns when a thought occurs to her. “How did you find me? You’re dressed like you were working.”

            “I was. Am, actually,” he says with a gentle smile, one that shows his amusement but doesn’t give her the impression that he’s making fun of her. “I’m still on call, but it’s been a pretty quiet night as far as pages go. The ER must be slow. I ran into Johanna as I was finishing up rounds earlier this evening and she asked if I could go get you. You had her really worried.”

            “Well, thanks for picking me up. And sorry that I – sorry for whatever I did while I was blacked out,” she apologizes, tugging anxiously at her messy braid.

            Peeta surprises her with a smile, though, as a hand finds her waist, tugging her closer to him once again on the couch. “Believe me, I didn’t mind it.” He shrugs bashfully. “I’ve just made it a point not to do anything with a girl who’s basically unconscious.”

            Katniss buries her face in her hands with a mortified groan while he does his best to hold back a throaty chuckle. She deserves to be laughed at. Of course she would go and make a complete fool of herself in front of the first guy who’s shown an interest in her in ages. And one who she works with, no less.

            He rubs his hand over her back comfortingly. “Are you alright, Katniss?” he questions. She knows he’s not just asking about the hangover.

            Her grey eyes meet his, and they stare at one another for a long moment before she sighs. “I really don’t want to talk about it tonight, Peeta.”

            “Talking about it might help,” he reasons softly, concern rooted deep in that gaze that seems to look right into the depths of her.

            “Not tonight it won’t,” she argues, leaning forward quickly and pressing her lips to his. She gets the distinct feeling that Peeta’s not going to let this go without a fight, but her brain just can’t handle that sort of conversation on top of the splitting headache she’s enduring right now.

            The sky outside is starting to lighten with the first signs of dawn as she places a hand over his chest and presses him back against the cushions of the couch. His eyes darken and the tip of his tongue appears just long enough to lick his lips before disappearing again. The sight sends a spear of heat through her core, and her hand tangles in his tousled curls before she even thinks about what she’s doing.

            “Can I just stay here a few more hours? Can we go back to sleep?” she asks timidly. She wouldn’t really blame him if he insisted on taking her home. She did show her true colors tonight after all. She wouldn’t fault him if her display freaked him out. “I just really don’t want to go home right now.”

            He nods, letting a deep breath out through his nose as he sinks back into the cushions further before pulling her across his chest. “I think that sounds like a pretty great idea,” he agrees, surprising her with a pleased grin, “because, if we’re being honest I really don’t want you to leave right now.”

            She snuggles in against the warmth of his chest and breathes in the earthy scent that is entirely Peeta, once again wondering when she got in this far over her head. They’re silent for a good long while, and Katniss begins to think that he has fallen asleep when he gives a deep sigh.

            “You still awake?” he whispers and she nods against him.

            “I have a terrible headache,” she admits, reveling in the way his chest vibrates beneath her while he laughs.

            “I bet you do,” he agrees, his thumb pressing little circles into her hipbone. “What were you drinking anyway?”

            She groans into his chest and doesn’t miss the way he shivers when she does. “Everything. Mostly rum.”

            “Huh. I would have pegged you as more of a vodka type of girl.”

            “Not since the day I passed my nursing boards,” she says with a grimace. “Never again.”

            Peeta laughs openly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

            “We’ve all had one of those nights,” he admits with a hearty chuckle. “Mine was with Everclear.”

            “Ouch,” she whispers, letting her finger trail over the smooth buttons of his shirt. He gives a throaty hum of agreement, and they fall into silence again while she continues drawing circles around the lower buttons of his shirt now. His abdominal muscles tense under her touch and something skips excitedly deep inside her belly.

            “Sorry again for trying to force entry into your pants, Peeta,” she apologizes, tugging at the tail of his shirt to emphasize her point.

            He lets out a sharp breath, and his hand tightens on her hip. “You wouldn’t have to force your way in, Katniss. Call me a hopeless romantic, but I’d just like you to remember it in the morning and I’d rather it actually mean something to you instead of just being a way to forget whatever is bothering you.”

            She snorts ungracefully. “Is that your way of saying you want me? You are by far the best romancer I’ve ever met.”

            Suddenly both of his hands find her hips and he moves her easily so she’s perched on top of him, her lithe body laying flat against the taut planes of his.

            “I do want you,” he says seriously, his blue eyes boring into her strongly enough that she wants to look away, but she finds she can’t. “But I want to do it right. I don’t want to fuck everything up and have you run away and have everything be awkward between us afterwards.”

            Her cheeks feel like they’re on fire, and finally she drops her gaze to the front of his shirt, staring intently at the fine cotton blend.

            “I want to do things right, Katniss,” he repeats; his tone tells her he means every word and it terrifies her.

            She’s accustomed to men trying to use her, to get what they want out of her as quickly as possible before walking out the door. She doesn’t know how to deal with this. She doesn’t know what to make of the way he’s looking up at her right now. She’s afraid of what that kind of look could lead to, and she just knows that all he needs to do is kiss her before she’d lose any resolve she still has. Maybe she’s not as sobered up as she thought.

            Luckily, she’s spared from any further conversation when her phone starts ringing in her pocket. One look at the screen and her heart drops. Her mother rarely calls her, even when she goes into a spiral. There’s only a handful of times she can remember her mother actually making the effort to get a hold of her, and they always ended up with another hospitalization.

            “I have to take this really quick,” Katniss says, slipping from her place on top of him and heading for the door. His face flashes with disappointment, but he doesn’t argue. Her stomach turns to knots. It’s only a matter of time before he gets fed up with all of this – with her always running out on him – and just walks away.

            “Mom?” Katniss answers the call as soon as the door is shut behind her, “What’s wrong?”

            She hears her mother’s shallow breathing from the other end of the line followed by a choking noise.  Her knuckles whiten against the phone at the sound.

            “Ma – mom?” her voice cracks as she chokes against the word. A sob breaks across the line, and her heart is instantly in her throat, racing along with her mind to put together all the possible scenarios.

            Finally, after a long pause, her mother sobs, “I don’t want to do this anymore, Katniss.”

            Katniss looks around the empty hallway of the apartment complex as a wave of panic washes over her. Her mother always gets so upset around this time of year, and right now the woman on the other end of the line sounds so completely broken, so hopeless, that her blood turns to ice in her veins.

            “Mama, I thought the medicine was helping this time,” she says softly, imitating the way her father would always speak to her when she got like this, “I thought you were doing well. This could just be a side effect of the pills, okay?”

            “No, Katniss, no it’s not,” her mother laments. “I’ve wanted things to be over for a long time now. It would just be easier if they were —”

            “Please don’t,” Katniss whispers, her voice so weak that she’s not even sure her mother can hear her on the other end of the line. Everything is crumbling around her, and she can hardly hear over the ringing in her ears.

            “I know I’ve been a burden to you,” the other woman says sorrowfully. “You resent me for it. I can see it in your eyes when you look at me.”

            “Mama, I don’t —“

            Her mother cuts her off, her tone ragged as the sobs choke her, “You have a right to be angry with me.”

            “I’m not angry, Mama.” Katniss is clutching at her stomach, certain that she’s about to be sick.

            “I’m going to make things easier for you, sweetheart,” she says softly. Katniss can imagine the sad little smile her mother must be wearing as she says it. “I couldn’t bring myself to call Primrose and tell her. You can do that for me, can’t you, Katniss? Just this one last thing?”

            “Mama, don’t.” The words are just a wheeze really. Katniss can’t breathe anymore. Her mother doesn’t hear her. Or at least she doesn’t respond to the desperate plea.

            “I love you, Katniss.”

            “Mama, don’t hang – “

            The line goes dead and she nearly drops the phone when she moves it away from her ear to stare at the blank screen. Her fingers work numbly against the screen until the phone dials another number, one she hasn’t called in an unreasonably long time, but she knows she needs him now.

            The line rings several times while a door opens behind her, but she’s too distracted to take note of it.

            “Come on. Come on,” she whispers. Her heart is still pounding almost painfully against her chest when a click followed by a gruff hello comes from the other end of the line.

            “Haymitch?” Her voice is squeaky and she doesn’t sound like herself at all, but somehow he knows exactly who he’s talking to.

            “What is it now, Sweetheart?” he questions tiredly. From the sound of it, she’d guess she just woke him up. The sun is fully risen now, but it still can’t be past six in the morning.

            “She needs you,” she says frantically into the tiny device, “I’m across town and I’m leaving now, but you’re closer – “

            “I’m on my way,” he says shortly. She can hear him rustling about the house before he adds, “I’ll be there in five minutes.”

            The line goes dead, and she lets out a shaky breath before turning around to face a familiar shirt. The same one she was laying on top of only a few minutes ago.

            “What’s all that about?” Peeta questions in that quiet, even tone he uses with his overly emotional patients, and Katniss knows she must look like an absolute wreck if he’s speaking to her like that. “Who’s Haymitch?”

            The blood drains from her face when she looks up into those stunning blue eyes, finding a look of betrayal. Katniss can’t find the words so she shakes her head, pushing past him into the apartment just long enough to grab her keys from the counter before heading for the door again.

            Peeta has other plans though, grabbing her bicep as she passes by him, “Katniss, talk to me. What’s wrong? What’s going on with you?”

            “I need to go,” she mutters, pulling herself from his grip and heading for the stairwell.

            “Katniss!” he shouts, his voice echoing against the empty brick walls as he rushes past her and effectively blocks her path. “You can’t keep running off like this.”

            “I’m sorry.”

            It’s a hollow apology. This is her life and this is exactly why she knew better than to get involved in the first place. She attempts to push past him, but he’s twice her size and has no trouble holding her back.

            “Is there someone else? Is that what all of this is about – all the secrets, all the running away. Is there another guy waiting for you at home? Is that who Haymitch is?” His words come out an octave higher than normal, and it wrenches Katniss’s heart to see the shattered look he gives her. 

            She shakes her head silently. She figured he’d get sick of her rushing off, but she didn’t expect him to assume she was cheating on him. She’s not even sure it would be called cheating anyway. It’s not as though they’ve actually sat down long enough to have that talk.

            “Then why do you have to go?” he questions, “You can talk to me.” His large hand finds her freely trembling one, and the frown on his lips deepens when he feels it.

            She shakes her head again, unable to speak. The last time she opened up that much with someone it nearly decimated her. She’s not sure she’s ready to go through that again. Gently, she tugs her hand, trying to free herself from his grasp, but he holds tight.

            Katniss turns to him with a worried scowl, tugging again at her hand. Peeta’s free hand finds her cheek, tilting her gaze up to meet his. She’s certain he can peer into her soul with those eyes. He can see all of her deepest secrets. He knows everything with just one look.

            “I need to go,” she pleads, willing him to understand.

            “Then let me go with you,” he replies softly, taking a step forward and tugging her after him. “Let me drive you. You’re probably not even completely sober yet.”

            Tears spring up in her eyes instantly at his words. She’s become so used to worrying about everyone else that she’s not accustomed to someone worrying about her. It scares her how much her heart swells when she looks at the man before her.

            She bites her bottom lip for a moment until she wills the tears away before whispering, “Just promise you won’t leave me once you see. You weren’t supposed to find out like this.”

            His eyes darken with worry, but he nods anyway and leads the way out to his car. “Where are we heading?”

            “My place,” she answers shortly, “and hurry.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please feel free to let me know what you thought of the chapter by reviewing or dropping me a line on tumblr. You can find me at therebelliondies dot tumblr dot com. I love hearing what you all are thinking or feeling about the story!
> 
> A special thanks to Court81981 for being an awesome beta for not only making this readable but also getting this story back to me in a super speedy fashion. You should check out any of her stories for a fantastic Everlark treat. She’s a wonderful writer and great person to boot.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I figured you all have been waiting long enough for this chapter. I’m sorry that I haven’t gotten around to answering everyone’s reviews yet. I just haven’t been myself lately, but I’ll be chipping away at them as I can. Thank you all for your wonderful support. It means more to me than I can explain.

_19 years old_

 

            “Babe, where’s dinner?”

            Katniss groans from where she lies in bed, feverish and aching from the flu or whatever germ of Satan that she came down with yesterday afternoon. She barely made it out of bed to check on her mother today, let alone to cook a meal that would almost certainly send her back to the bathroom for an hour while she puked her guts out.

            Seneca walks into her bedroom, his cool eyes glancing over her before his lips curl back in disgust. “You look awful, Katniss.”

            “I feel awful,” she rasps, her throat drier than a desert. She’s heard this happens to new nurses; contracting all sorts of bugs during their first year working isn’t unusual as they build immunity, but she never expected she would feel this close to death.

            “You promised you would make dinner for us tonight,” he reminds her, as if she didn’t know that already.

            “I know I did, but I – I can’t, Seneca.” Her eyes are getting heavy again despite the fact that she’s already slept most of the day away. She mumbles, “I’m just too sick.”

            He gives an irritated snort as he runs a hand through his hair. “So you’re telling me I drove _all the way over here_ and you’re not even going to get out of bed.”

            A pang of guilt twists inside her gut, or maybe that’s just the flu rearing its ugly head again. She meant to text him and let him know that she was sick, but she had fallen asleep this morning and slept straight through the afternoon. In fact, this is the longest she’s been awake since she fumbled around with her phone to call in sick to work when she woke up.

            “Sorry,” she whispers, looking up at him remorsefully. “You can stay for a while if you want.”

            He eyes her for a long moment before releasing a deep breath. “I can’t. I have a lot of work to get done. I really was only coming over because you asked me to. I made time in my schedule, but now I have to go figure out what to do for dinner…” He trails off, giving her a meaningful look, one that reminds her she screwed up. Again.

            Tears prick at the corners of her eyes and she feels so stupid. It’s amazing that he’s even still around with the shit she puts him through. He tolerates all the time she has to dedicate to taking care of her mother. He puts up with the days she can’t see him because she has to go to Prim’s parent teacher conferences. All he asks is that she doesn’t waste his time, and she can’t even get that right.

            “I’ve got to go.” He shrugs, shoving his hands in the pockets of his slacks. He presses a quick kiss to her sweaty forehead, cringing slightly as he pulls away. “You’ll just owe me one.”

            Katniss nods, biting her bottom lip as she watches him walk out of her bedroom and show himself out. Tears slip slowly down her cheeks and she wonders how much longer he’ll stick around.

            She needs him.

            He was her saving grace when they met at the local community college while she was finishing up nursing school. They would spend long nights while he quizzed her over the new diseases she learned in class. She gave him her virginity the night she realized she was in love with him. He can still make her smile when she doesn’t screw things up like she did today. He loves to go shopping for her, give her all kinds of beautiful things he knows she could never afford. Now that she’s practicing in the hospital, he listens patiently while she tells him about her day. She doesn’t know how she ever made it all of these years without him by her side and to do so now, to care for her mother and her sister alone, is unimaginable.

            Prim walks in a short while later with a bowl of homemade soup—tomato—because she knows Katniss can’t stand chicken soup when she’s sick. She frowns when she sees the blatant streaks where tears have stained her older sister’s face.

            “I made you something to eat,” the slight, blonde girl murmurs as she settles down in bed alongside Katniss. “Are you hungry?”

            Katniss shakes her head, her stomach churning angrily as the scent of tomato soup hits her nostrils. Prim nestles in closer to her older sister, apparently unfazed by the flu raging in the older woman.

            “Why are you crying?” she asks softly, her blue eyes holding Katniss’s hazy grey ones.

            “I messed up again,” she admits, sounding entirely too defeated for a 19-year-old woman. “He was angry with me; I could tell. What if he leaves, Prim?”

            Her blue eyes flash with anger as she grips Katniss’s hands tightly between hers. She knows exactly who Katniss is talking about. “He’s an ass.”

            “Prim!” she begins to reprimand, but the younger girl shakes her head forcefully.

            “It’s true, Katniss,” she argues. “You’d be so much better off without him.”

            “How could you say that?” Katniss demands heatedly. Prim knows how she feels about Seneca. “He’s stayed with me even after I told him about Mom. That has to mean something, Prim. I just keep doing stupid shit to make him angry.”

            “The only stupid thing you’re doing is staying with him,” her younger sister mutters under her breath, but Katniss hears her loud and clear; she just doesn’t believe her.

 

…

 

            “Don’t answer that,” he grumbles, pulling the phone from her grasp and guiding her head back down to where she was attending to him before it started ringing.

            “It might be my mom,” she says, slightly breathless, reaching out a hand to take the phone from him.

            He rolls his eyes. “Fine.” Chucking the phone at the foot of the bed, he throws his legs to the side of the mattress and makes his way towards the bathroom connected to his bedroom. “I’ll just take care of this myself.” He nods towards his erection, anger clearly evident in the look he shoots her.

            Katniss quickly crawls to where the phone landed on the bed and she gives him desperate look. “Just give me one minute. I just want to make sure everything is okay and then we can finish. I’ll make it up to you.” Her voice holds a pleading tone, but he isn’t listening to any of it as he shakes his head before slamming the bathroom door and starting the shower.

            She lets out a shaky sigh as her finger hits the answer button. A voice begins speaking before she can even say hello.

            “Katniss, I need help.” Her heart pounds furiously against her chest and she’s up in an instant, searching for her bra that Seneca tossed somewhere in the room when they frantically stripped one another earlier in the evening.

            “What is it?” she asks her younger sister, slipping her arms through the straps of her simple white bra once she finds it hanging off the edge of his desk.

            “It’s Mom.” Prim’s voice is high-pitched and frantic, a sure sign that something really is wrong. It takes quite a bit to get her younger sister frazzled. “She went to the casino again. I tried to stop her, but she wouldn’t listen. She said she’s lucky tonight and she’s not coming home until she wins.”

            Katniss closes her eyes and presses her fingers against them as she sighs. She had been suspicious that her mother was having another manic episode, but up until today she had been unsure. This clears away any doubt though. Her mother never gambles when she’s not manic.

            “I know you were supposed to be spending the night with Seneca,” Prim continues when Katniss doesn’t respond, “but they won’t let me in the casino because I’m not eighteen and I already tried calling Uncle Haymitch, but he left for the bar hours ago and he’s not answering, and Gale isn’t answering either.” Her words begin to run together at the end as she tries to fit them all in one breath. Katniss can tell that her little sister really does feel terrible. Even if she probably doesn’t mind ruining Seneca’s night, Prim is forever begging Katniss to get out of the house and do something fun. Of course, this is the sort of thing that happens when she does leave the house for more than an hour to do anything fun.

            “It’s alright, Prim,” she sighs. “I’ll go get her. You just wait at home, okay? Did you get the paper finished that you were working on?”

            “No.” She can almost hear Prim roll her eyes, as if this is the last thing they should be worrying about, but Katniss does worry. She wants her little sister to do well in school; if anyone deserves to do well in life, it’s Prim.

            “Well, you work on that and I’ll be home before you know it,” Katniss reassures her, stumbling as she tries to put her pants on with a single hand before hanging up with Prim.

            The water from the shower cuts off, and Seneca walks out of the bathroom a few minutes later with a towel wrapped around his waist. Katniss sloppily tugs on her favorite green tee, messing her braid up in the process. He stares at her blankly, his gaze cold as it holds hers.

            “You’re leaving?” he asks, but the way he says it makes it sound a lot like an accusation. “What happened to making it up to me?”

            “I will,” she cringes as she crosses the room and he turns his cheek to her when she moves to press her lips to his. “I promise, Seneca, I will. I just need to go and get my mom—”

            “You’ve got to be kidding me!” he laughs harshly. “This is supposed to be the _one_ night this week that we get to spend together and you’re going to run off?”

            “My mother is sick,” she replies weakly, ducking her gaze to where she is wringing her fingers nervously. “You know that.”

            He shrugs, the movement sharp and jerky, his eyes wide with disbelief and heated with anger. “Just leave her. Let someone else deal with her for once!”

            She feels sick, and she presses a hand to where her stomach has twisted itself into knots. Tears burn behind her eyes and she bites the inside of her cheek, praying that she doesn’t cry. Seneca hates it when she cries.

            “I can’t.” Her words are heavy on her tongue, and she doesn’t sound like herself, choked with emotion as she is right now. “There isn’t anyone else.”

            “Well—” He throws his hands up, causing her to jump back in surprise, “—if you walk out of this apartment right now, I wouldn’t plan on coming back.”

            His words suck all of the air from her lungs. “What?” She wheezes once she manages to take in a shallow, strangled breath. Why does it feel like she’s just been kicked in the gut?

            “You heard me,” he replies coolly, crossing his arms over his bare chest, the chest she has fallen asleep on for more nights than she can count. This can’t be happening. “I’m done with this, Katniss. It’s too much. You’re nineteen. You shouldn’t be burdened down like this. I didn’t sign up for all of your baggage.”

            “Seneca, please,” she begs, her heart, which never truly healed after her father’s death, shatters into tinier fragments than she ever thought possible, turning to dust. 

            “I’m sorry for you, Katniss,” he says, running a hand through his hair and letting it come to rest on the back of his neck. “Really I am because I don’t see how you’re ever going to end up with anyone. It’s just not worth being with someone who is so unavailable.”

            He might as well have slapped her across the face. She stands, staring at him like some lost, pathetic puppy, which is exactly how she feels. She’s not worth it. They’ve been together for two years, and he finally realized that she’s not worth all the stress that she brings with her.

            “Seneca,” she reaches out, her voice breaking as she places her hand to his chest, pleading, “I promise, if you just give me an hour, I can be back here and it will be like—”

            He shakes his head, removing her hand from where it rests. “No. It’s done.  I’m done. We’re over.”

            Her tears spill over as he turns away from her and heads back to the bathroom, still steamy from his brief shower. Something snaps inside her when the door clicks shut and she hears him turn the lock. She throws herself against the door, pounding at it with her fist and sobbing, strangled breaths making her sound like a dying animal.

            “Please,” she begs, the word just a painful moan. “Seneca, please, don’t do this. Let me make it up to you.”

            He doesn’t answer, and she claws desperately at the handle of the door, praying that the lock will break and she will be able to see him one last time. She knows if she could just wrap her arms around him, give herself to him again, he would change his mind. He’s always happiest with her when they’ve just made love.

            The handle twists beneath her hand, and she nearly falls flat at his feet when the door opens. His eyes are wide as he bends down to her crumpled form in the door jam.

            “What is wrong with you?” he hisses. His face doesn’t look like the man she’s come to love in the two years they’ve been together. This man is a stranger, and it scares her how quickly the man she knew has disappeared. “You sound like your mother during one of her fucking phases! Is that what you want—to turn into your mother?”

            His words burn her, stamped in her mind forever, etched into the very matter that makes up her brain. Is that really what he thinks? He was always kind when he interacted with her mother, which was rare, but still, he never said anything so cruel before. 

            She stands slowly, trying to take deep, steady breaths through her sobs, wiping her cheeks with the backs of her hands. He watches, but doesn’t move to comfort her, his eyes like ice on her skin. Stumbling towards the door, she barely makes it into the hall when she hears him call out to her already retreating form.

            “You know I was only with you because you were such an easy lay, Katniss. It was never about loving you.” 

            As she quietly makes her way out of the apartment building, it’s as though the slight breeze making its way down the street of the city scatters the tiny bits of her heart that are left. Her tears dry, but she is empty. A part of her is dead as she starts her car and pulls out into traffic towards the only casino within a fifty-mile radius. She knows she’ll find her mother there and hopefully the older woman won’t have blown all of the family savings by the time Katniss manages to drag her home.

 

…

 

_Present_

 

            Katniss jumps out of the car before Peeta even has a chance to park. She stumbles her way onto the sidewalk and sees Haymitch’s station wagon is parked in front of the house. The front door is still ajar when she reaches it.

            “Mama?” she calls out, her voice hoarse with fear. She doesn’t breathe, can’t breathe, until she hears Haymitch’s gravelly voice coming from upstairs.

            “Lil, did you take anything?” he asks softly and far more gently than he normally speaks. Katniss rounds the corner to her mother’s room and finds the pair on the ground, her mother huddled up and staring blankly into space while Uncle Haymitch is kneeling in front of her, a knife that Katniss recognizes from the kitchen in his hand.

            “Where are the pill bottles?” Katniss demands, and Haymitch points to the pile of them on the bed, nearly obscured by the piles of pillows her mother insists on sleeping with.

            “Is she alright?” she asks as she quickly begins opening bottles and counting pills. Ever since she was old enough to open the childproof containers, Katniss fell into a habit of knowing exactly how many pills her mother should have left in each container. A part of her has always been terrified that her mother would try to overdose again like she did all those years ago while her father was still alive.

            “She cut her arms, but she won’t let me touch them.” Haymitch explains, his voice strained with worry. “I don’t think they’re very deep, but they sure as hell are bleeding.”

            Katniss counts out the last bottle, and all the pills are there. She lets out a breath she didn’t even know she’d been holding before rounding the bed and attempting to pull her mother’s wrists away from her chest to inspect the damage.

            “STOP IT!” Lily shrieks the second Katniss touches her. “Leave me alone! Just let me die!”

            “Mama, please,” she begs desperately. “You don’t mean that. It’s just a bad week.”

            “It is _not_ ,” her mother hisses vehemently. “I want to die. I don’t want to be here like this anymore.”

            A large, warm hand lands on her shoulder and Katniss’s gaze snaps up to find Peeta standing beside her wearing the calm, neutral expression that every doctor in the world seems to master before graduating medical school.

            “Mrs. Everdeen,” he says slowly as he kneels down in front of the frail, blonde woman. “My name is Doctor Mellark and I’d really like to take a look at your arms. Would you please let me see them?”

            Katniss shifts out of the way before sitting on the carpet near her mother, allowing Peeta room to step closer to the injured woman. He moves slowly, as though approaching a frightened animal, but when he reaches for Lily Everdeen’s wrists, she quickly turns away from him, holding them even more tightly to her chest.

            “I don’t need your help, doctor,” she mutters, her withdrawn gaze settling on the ground between them.

            “Mama—” Peeta raises a finger to his lips to quiet Katniss. She presses her lips together, swallowing back the desperation bubbling up inside of her.

            “Mrs. Everdeen, I really don’t want to call an ambulance, and I won’t have to if you let me take care of those cuts, but I can’t just leave you here like this,” Peeta explains softly. “Please. Your daughter asked me to help you. She needs you. Will you allow it? Can you let me help you for Katniss?”

            Her pale eyes lift to meet his vivid ones and she gazes skeptically at him for a long, silent moment before nodding. Peeta lets out a slow breath, easing a hand forward to reach for hers.

            “Thank you,” he murmurs, though to whom his words are directed remains a bit of a mystery.

            Lily lets him inspect the damage she’s done, and Katniss’s stomach twists at the long, jagged lines that run the length of her forearms. Haymitch was right, they don’t look overly deep; the kitchen knife was probably too dull to cut through the pale, delicate flesh effectively, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t plenty of blood.

            Katniss deals with blood at work all day, but there’s something about seeing the blood of someone you care about, someone you are supposed to protect, that still causes her nerves to fray. She’s failed her mother. She is worthless.

            “These need to be stitched up,” he states softly, focusing on the broken, blonde woman before him.

            “No!” her mother spits, eyes growing wide. “I won’t go to the hospital. Not again.”

            Katniss cringes. Ever since her mother’s first suicide attempt, the older woman has refused to go to any hospital. It’s why Katniss has always paid the extra cost of a private psychiatric facility.

            Peeta doesn’t seem bothered by this; he simply nods slowly, as though thinking up another plan. “Well,” he muses after a few minutes, “I won’t take you to the hospital. It will just be a doctor’s office, and it will be empty since it’s after hours.”

            Lily hesitates, and Katniss is sure that her mother is going to turn down this idea as well. Right when the older woman opens her mouth to speak, Peeta gives her hand a little squeeze.

            “Let me help you for your daughters, Lily,” he pleads.

            Her mother’s demeanor changes once he speaks, and pale blue eyes search out her grey ones. Katniss blinks quickly, trying to banish the tears that are gathering in her eyes as she looks at her frail mother. Lily doesn’t look away from Katniss when she nods. “Okay. But no hospitals.”

            “No hospitals,” Peeta repeats reassuringly as he helps her to her feet. He turns to Haymitch, who has remained unnaturally silent during the entire exchange, observing the scene clinically from the foot of the bed. “Are there any clean towels around that we can wrap her arms in during the drive?”

            “I’ve got it,” Katniss says, her words breathy as she darts from the room to the tiny linen closet down the hallway. When she returns, Peeta takes them from her hands and sets to wrapping her mother’s arms snuggly, but Katniss doesn’t miss the quizzical gaze that Haymitch shoots her.

            “I’ll drive,” Haymitch offers without preamble. He leads the way to the same beat-up station wagon he’s had since she was just a child. She notices the way he keeps looking at Peeta and her mother through the rearview mirror during the ride.

            “A left up here and it’s the first office building on the right hand side,” Peeta says softly from the back seat. The ride has been quiet; Haymitch refuses to listen to “that crap music” on the radio. To emphasize his point, he’d pulled the radio receiver out of his dashboard one afternoon when Katniss was seventeen and he has never bothered to replace it.

            “Where are we?” the older man questions now as they pull to a stop along the curb. The office building is one of the newer ones in town, but nondescript.

            Pulling out a little golden key, Peeta leads them around the side of the building and unlocks a metal door. “The office on Floor Three belongs to Dr. Aurelius. Sometimes I help him out when he has an overflow of appointments so he gave me a key in case I need to get in before or after office hours.”

            This explanation seems to appease Haymitch and the rest of their short journey upstairs is silent. Peeta places a gentle hand between Lily’s shoulders once they enter the darkened waiting area, and Katniss is surprised that her mother doesn’t flinch away from his touch as she so often does with Katniss. Something about the sight stings.

            He glances back at Katniss, fixing her with a look that makes her fidget with the hem of her shirt. She’s not sure what to make of it. Does he already realize that this is all too much? Is he planning how he’s going to tell her that he didn’t bargain for this? Katniss imagines he’s torn and searching for the nicest way to break the news to her; Peeta is nothing but kind. 

            The door to the exam room closes a split second before the interrogation she has been expecting from Haymitch begins. She can feel his grey eyes boring into the back of her head as she resolutely stares at a poster for the pneumonia vaccine.

            “When were you planning to share with the rest of the family that you have a boyfriend, sweetheart?” His voice is lilting, as though he finds something about this fucked up situation humorous.

            Anger heats her veins and she knows the tips of her ears are probably turning pink. Haymitch has always known which buttons to push to get under her skin instantly. 

            “Or did you learn that lesson the hard way last time?” he adds when she doesn’t respond right away. Katniss turns to face him, finding him leaning up against one of the grey office walls. “Were you going to hide everything from him in hopes that he might actually stick around?”

            “Shut up, Haymitch, or I’ll make sure you’re incapable of speaking,” she hisses under her breath.

            He snorts, breaking into a lopsided grin when he realizes that this could be an amusing game while they wait. Katniss scowls back at him, crossing her arms over her chest.

            “This one’s good looking. And he has a decent job,” he points out appreciatively, as if Katniss cares about his opinion. “Have you let him in your bed just like the others? What was the first one’s name again? Sene—”

            “SHUT THE FUCK UP!” she shouts, throwing him up against the wall, pinning him there with her forearm as she brings her face within inches of his own. “Or you might be the next one in need of stitches.”

            “I’m just saying, sweetheart,” Haymitch wheezes, undeterred by her show of aggression. “You don’t have the best track record with choosing men. What’s his flaw? If you haven’t found it yet, you might have a problem on your hands.”

            “He’s not like Seneca was,” Katniss whispers, trying to reassure herself as much as Haymitch. “Peeta is a good guy. He likes me.”

            “You thought that about Seneca too, Katniss.” His grey eyes meet with hers, and she can tell he’s only trying to look out for her in his own twisted way, but anger continues to boil inside of her anyway. “If you don’t think that you’re just as fragile now as you were then—”

            “This is nothing like that.” Katniss worries her bottom lip with her teeth, trying not to let the deluge of emotions surrounding everything to do with Seneca Crane break free.

            “Isn’t it though, sweetheart?” Haymitch’s voice is somber now, and she can see the concern clearly evident in the look he gives her. “Your mom has been pretty sick lately. Are you sure you didn’t rush into this relationship?” He glares at her when she opens her mouth to protest. “Don’t try and lie about it. I can tell when you’re in deep. I saw the way you two looked at each other.” 

            Her nostrils flare as she takes several deep breaths, though whether to hold back tears or more screaming she can’t be sure. She hates that Haymitch can pin her down so easily, as though she’s some sort of open book. He’s one of the only people in her life capable of doing so, and she suspects it’s because she is so much like her father—his brother.

            All at once, she feels like that same little girl that he had to drag out of the bathroom stall after finding out about her dad. The same girl that he held in his arms when came home one night to her crying with a broken heart. He watches her silently, waiting. If there is one thing the Everdeen bloodline has a plethora of, it’s stubbornness. She doesn’t doubt for a second that Haymitch will continue to stare at her until she gives him an answer.

            “I think it might be for real,” she whispers shakily, the adrenaline from the night wearing away and leaving her drained. “I think he really does care about me.”

            A boney hand comes to rest on her upper arm and she meets his silver-eyed gaze. “Just promise me you’ll drop him if he starts to act like Seneca did with you. I know you’ll deny it to your grave, but he was abusive, sweetheart. And the next time you’re with a boy like that, I’ll shoot him.”

            Katniss gives a tearful, bark of a laugh as she quickly dries her eyes. God forbid Peeta walk out here to find her crying for the second time in twenty-four hours.

            “You don’t even have a gun,” she points out, her voice slightly squeaky as she speaks, but Haymitch just gives her a crooked grin, his eyes glinting deviously.

            “Doesn’t mean I don’t know where to find one,” he says easily. “And if all else fails, I’m a damn good knife thrower.”

            They fall into silence, and Haymitch flips disinterestedly through an old magazine that he found sitting on a side table in the waiting area. Katniss can’t sit still so she paces slowly around the room, trying not to imagine what reaction Peeta might have.

            It’s not all that long before her mother walks through the door, her head ducked so she doesn’t have to make eye contact with anyone as she passes towards the exit of the office. Peeta follows behind her, and he doesn’t hesitate to meet Katniss’s gaze. She shivers and looks away after seeing the disappointment lingering behind the dark frames of his glasses.

            “I’m really sorry to do this,” Peeta’s voice carries softly from where he stands near the doorway, “but I got a page while we were in back. They need me at the hospital. Do you think you could drop me by on the way back to your place? I can figure out how to get my car later.”

            Katniss looks up to see him rubbing his hand over the back of his neck, the stress of the night clearly wearing on his body. It feels like there’s a heavy stone rolling around in the pit of her stomach when she realizes what this means. He’s going to leave. Things will never be the same. A cold sweat prickles at the back of her neck as Haymitch confirms that it would be no problem to stop by the hospital and drop him off. She follows silently, watching as Peeta patiently guides her mother back to the car, helping her duck her head as she settles into the cracked leather seat. 

            Katniss can’t look at him as Haymitch navigates the empty streets of the city. She doesn’t want him to see the way tears well up in her eyes before she can blink them away. She’s a fucking mess.

            When they arrive in front of the ER entrance to the hospital, Peeta climbs out of the car, opening the passenger side door where Katniss sits and pressing a quick kiss to her cheek. His blue eyes search hers, and she has a nagging feeling that this very well might be her goodbye. She wonders if it was worse when Seneca yelled all those horrible things at her. At least then she had reason to hate him, which she can’t bring herself to do with the man in front of her. 

            “I’ll call you,” he murmurs before hurrying into the hospital.

            She isn’t going to count on it though.

 

…

 

            “Katniss.” The lilting, singsong voice wakes her in a haze as heavy feet cross her carpeted floor. The bed shifts and creaks under newly added weight.

            “Hmpf,” she grumbles against her pillow, burying her face deeper against the soft linen. She’s too damn tired for conversation right now. Haymitch had helped her get her mother into bed just as dawn was blushing on the horizon. She had collapsed into bed not long after, Haymitch’s promising that he would be by to check on them later in the morning.

            When a pair of lips grazes her shoulder where it isn’t covered by her thin tank top, her eyes snap open instantly. She blinks furiously against the bright, early-afternoon light. Peeta wears a gentle smile as he looks down at her through with those pure, blue eyes that leave her heart beating rapidly against her chest as though she’s just been running rather than sleeping. 

            “Hey,” he greets quietly, one of his hands moving to brush her dark hair back over her shoulder. When she doesn’t speak and simply stares up at him with wide eyes, he adds, “Sorry if I scared you. I rang the doorbell twice. Your mother let me in.”

            Katniss frowns; her mother never lets people in the house except when she brings home strangers during her manic phases.

            “What are you doing here?” she asks, taking in the way the light burnishes his golden curls and the dark circles that hang under his eyes as a testament to his lack of sleep last night.

            He chuckles before pressing his lips to hers briefly. He arches a brow. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

            Katniss almost fails to contain a bitter laugh at the question. How could he be so blasé about everything he saw last night? How could he sit here as though there were never any question that Katniss would wake up to him in her bed the day after he witness one of her mother’s meltdowns?

            “When we dropped you off, I just figured…” she trails off, unable to continue the thought because it aches inside her chest so sharply. If she says it out loud, it might become real, and she’d really like to keep him here for as long as possible, even if it’s just for five minutes until he can tell her that this is all too much.

            “You figured?” he prompts with a sweet smile when the silence begins to lengthen while he waits for her to complete the thought.

            She reaches out, letting her fingers twist in the soft cotton of his shirt. He shivers slightly under her touch. Hesitantly, she raises her silver eyes to meet his gaze and takes a long, shaky breath. “That you’d leave,” she finishes, the words soft and timid. “You wouldn’t be the first to change your mind—to walk away.”

            Peeta’s lips turn into a troubled frown, and he shifts closer to her, his body heat pouring off of him in welcome waves as she unconsciously leans in closer. His fingers wind themselves in her dark hair still matted and knotted with sleep.

            “I’m not going anywhere, Katniss. I promised you that I wouldn’t leave, and I meant it with everything inside of me,” he says so assuredly that she has a difficult time doubting him. But last night was just a glimpse for him; he can’t really know what he is getting himself into if he agrees to deal with this on a daily basis.

            Katniss nestles her head under his chin, breathing in the familiar scent of him, trying to embed it in her memory in case she doesn’t have the luxury of holding him close one day.

            “How long have you been doing this on your own?” he questions as he lets his fingers run through her hair, massaging her scalp lightly as he goes.

            Katniss’s forehead scrunches as she glances up at him, her eyes already glazed and more relaxed than they were moments before. “I’m not alone. I have Haymitch and my sister.”

            “But they’re not here with you all the time.” His hands cup her cheeks gently as he holds her gaze to his. “How long have you been taking care of your mother?”

            Tears burn her eyes and gather quickly, threatening to overflow as she shakes her head from his grasp, burying her face against his shirt again. She won’t let him see her cry about this. She can’t talk about this.

            Peeta sighs heavily; he knows she’s shutting him out again, and she can almost find it inside of her to care, but self-preservation has always been her foremost concern when it comes to this subject. If she lets him see how ugly everything is inside of her, how damaged and horrifically mangled she is, she is sure that he’ll realize just how unattractive she is.

            “I don’t need help,” she whispers, never moving from where she is buried against his chest. “I can do this on my own.”

            His hands splay out over her back, rubbing slow circles in the tense muscles beneath them. “I know you can, Katniss. I saw that last night, but how long have you been shouldering all of this?”

            “If I wanted a therapist, I would have hired one,” she spits back angrily, pushing away from him. In the back of her mind somewhere, she knows that he’s just worried, that he isn’t judging her or looking down on her for all of this, but concern is not an emotion that Katniss has seen much of in her life and she’s not sure how else to handle it. 

            His arms remain locked around her waist, however, and he pulls her closer. “Just because you can doesn’t mean you should. I’m not trying to be your therapist, but Katniss, handling this all by yourself is a lot. _A lot_. You know that. You see caregiver burnout every day at work.”

            “Why do you care?” she demands, the words sharp, but weaker than before. She can feel herself softening under his words. This is why he never struggles with his patients. His words are like spun gold; he knows what to say when and uses it to weaken her resolve. 

            He doesn’t reply right away and Katniss hazards a glance up at him, instantly recognizing her mistake. What she sees in his gaze stops her heart.  It’s too much, and she’s too afraid to let him in that deeply.

            “Because I care a hell of a lot about you.”

            She draws a ragged breath, a shiver running through her every nerve. Then the tears spill over, and she doesn’t know that they will ever stop again. Peeta pulls her to his chest, cupping her head in the palm of his hand as he makes soothing shushing noises and lets her cry with abandon.

            She must fall asleep, because when she wakes up, her room is dark and it looks like late evening outside. Hands brush over the curve of her waist, and her eyes flutter open to find Peeta is still there. A crease is formed on his brow while he watches her, melting away the moment he sees she is awake.

            “Welcome back, sleepyhead,” he greets, and her lips begin to curl up in spite of the sinking feeling that is still very much present in the pit of her stomach. “How do you feel?”

            She closes her eyes briefly before letting out a little moan. “Like a semi just hit me and then backed up to roll over me again.”

            Peeta bursts out in a rich laughter that inexplicably warms her as she burrows closer to him. “I guess that makes sense. With all the alcohol and then the running around town you did last night. Well, I took the honor of bringing us breakfast when I came this morning.” He looks to the clock on her bedside table with a smirk. “It’s not really breakfast time, but breakfast for dinner is always a great alternative.”

            Her stomach growls of its own accord and he chuckles, giving her a quick kiss before getting out of bed and grabbing a large paper bag from the floor that she hadn’t noticed before.

            “I’ll be right back, just going to heat this up,” he says before hurrying out of the room.

            Katniss curls into herself, chilled without his heat to warm her bed. She’s still stunned that he’s here, that he’s not angry, that he hadn’t yelled at her once when she cried in front of him. It’s all so disconcerting, but when she thinks about it, it’s not. This is Peeta. The fact that she ever thought he would behave differently says more about her than about him.

            Peeta returns a little while later, just when Katniss is afraid she’s going to get lost inside the jumbled thoughts that tangle her mind. He no longer carries the paper bag, but a tray laden with several plates of steaming food. The cloud of rich, delicious scents hits her nose and she groans, sitting up against the headboard and making room for Peeta to settle in next to her. 

            “I figured you’d be hungrier than a few pastries could handle, so I made a couple things,” he explains contentedly. The hot plate of eggs catches her eyes, and she remembers that her mother probably hasn’t eaten today either.

            She begins to slip out from under the covers with a groan.

            “Where are you going?” Peeta smiles up at her, that same charming smile that first stole her breath away.

            “I have to make sure Mom eats something and takes her meds,” she says, but before she can even stand, his hand is around her wrist and tugging her back into bed.

            “Your uncle came earlier this morning. He’s looking after your mom.” She settles back against the headboard with little protest, something about Peeta’s soothing voice calms her. She trusts what he says. “You just stay right here and let me take care of you for once.”

            She snorts softly, reaching for a slice of bacon from the pile on the plate next to the eggs. “Just as long as you don’t try to spoon-feed me, I’ll allow it.”

            He grins happily, reaching for a golden-topped roll, still steaming slightly from when Peeta warmed it. It smells delicious and she takes it without protest, biting into it with a moan as the flavors hit her tongue.

            “What is this?” she asks through a mouth full of sharp cheese and soft, flaky bread.

            “A cheese bun,” he answers, his smile broadening when he takes in the delighted look on her face. “My dad owns a bakery. Those are a top seller. It’s got a secret family recipe and everything.”

            “Oh.” She looks down at the bit of bun that she hasn’t managed to stuff in her mouth yet. “I didn’t know you could bake.”

            “There’s a lot about me you don’t know yet, Katniss.” His voice is deeper than usual as he speaks, and she blushes at the heat that builds between her thighs. “Just like there’s plenty I still don’t know about you,” he finishes and she glances up at him, popping the last of the delicious cheese bun past her lips.

            He takes a bite of some pastry that looks as though it has raspberry swirled into it, and she’s filled with the urge to kiss him to see if she’s correct about the flavor. His tongue peeks out just past his lips to catch a stray flake of the buttery delicacy.

            “I was seventeen,” she whispers breathlessly, unable to tear her gaze from his own despite her horror that the words have managed to slip past her lips. Peeta frowns, confusion sparking in his eyes, so she adds, “You asked how long I’ve been doing this on my own. I was seventeen when my dad died.”

            Peeta’s blue eyes widen in surprise, stunned speechless, and the silence between them drags on and Katniss can’t stand it so the words start flowing forth before she can stop them. She’s not sure if she wants to stop them.

            “Uncle Haymitch came to live with us so we didn’t get put into foster care. Mama couldn’t take care of us, everyone knew that much, but dad’s death tore Haymitch up. He drank a lot; he wasn’t around much. Prim was too little to help. She didn’t understand everything that was going on, and she would get so upset when things got bad with Mama.

            “So I learned how to take care of them all. Except I keep screwing up, just like last night, and I’m so afraid that one of these times I’ll mess it up too big and something will happen that I can’t fix. I’m useless when it comes to my own family,” she finishes in a tiny voice, so quiet she wonders how Peeta can even hear her, but he does. She can tell by the look on his face, one of complete disbelief and subtle horror, that he heard every word as though she shouted them. She is silent, her mind frozen as the memory of Seneca’s words echoes through her mind. They’re all still there, still burned into her, old scars that won’t keep quiet. _She’s not worth all of this. She’ll end up just like her mother. She’s just an easy lay._

            Peeta leans forward, his mouth meeting hers as he gently sucks on her bottom lip, and she is lost. Her mind goes quiet and the only thing she can focus on is him, Peeta, the man who continues to surprise her in every way.

            The tray of cooling food is quickly forgotten and her arms wrap around his shoulders, pulling her closer to him as she tries to breath in his very essence, afraid that if she lets go for a single second, all of this—he—will disappear. His tongue sweeps along the seam of her lips and she moans, parting her lips so his tongue can meet with hers. 

            She turns, moving a leg over his hips and settling to straddle his lap while his hands slide lower on her waist, pulling her hips closer to his own. She feels him against her through the thin fabric of her sleep shorts, and a shockingly pleasant chill runs through her body. She rocks her hips against him and he groans loudly, pulling away and gasping for breath.

            “You are beautiful,” he rasps, raising a slightly shaky hand and running it through her dark hair. She doubts she’s beautiful, especially after all of her crying, but he seems so sincere. A smile pulls at her lips and she leans in to kiss him again, but he continues before she can. “You are so brave and strong. You love fiercely and you don’t even realize that not everyone would give everything you do.”

            She fidgets uncomfortably, her gaze flitting from his face to the bed. Her cheeks flush and Peeta smiles brightly. She loves his smile, perhaps more than anything else she’s ever seen, and it makes her giddy to know she can cause it.

            “You are so special,” he whispers in that same, choked voice as he cups her face in his hands, “And if I’m not careful. I think I run a very real risk of falling in love with you.”

            Katniss is certain that she’s not breathing anymore. How did she find this man? Why doesn’t he run away like everyone else has?

            “And, Katniss?” He pulls her attention back from the deluge of questions that burden her mind. She blinks up at him and watches a sweet smile spread across his lips, and he pushes the dark frames of his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. “Happy birthday. Sorry I missed it yesterday.”

            She lets her forehead fall to rest against his, contented and full of a warm feeling that reminds her an awful lot of love, but today she doesn’t want to think about all that that might mean. She just wants to let Peeta hold her. And that’s exactly what she plans to do for as long as he’ll have her. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please feel free to let me know what you thought of the chapter. It means so much to hear from my readers. A huge thank you goes out to Court81981 for her magnificent beta work.


	7. Chapter 7

_Present_

 

            Katniss buries her face against her pillow with a moan when the bed shakes, waking her from one of the deepest sleeps she can remember having in a long time. The sound of feet shuffling quietly on the carpet causes her eyes to flutter open curiously.

            Then she remembers.

            “Hi,” he greets softly when his blue eyes meet hers from across the room, and he tugs his shirt over his shoulders and begins deftly fastening the row of buttons down the front.

            Her cheeks burn and her arms tighten instinctively around the pillow that she’s debating burying her face in again.

            Peeta must somehow guess what she’s feeling because he smiles shyly before taking a few steps to close the gap between them. He leans over and his lips brush against her cheek right where the skin feels warmest.

            “Hi,” Katniss finally manages in a whispery croak, her throat rough from all the crying the day before.

            He holds up the dreaded little black device just as its screen flashes green and a message starts to roll across it. “I got a page. There’s a patient going bad, and they asked if there was any way I could get in to see him.”

            She blinks heavily and nods, already fighting sleep as she begins to drift off again. His lips brush against her cheek once more and she shivers slightly at the warmth they carry with them.

            “I’ll see you later,” he murmurs, his breath tickling the sensitive skin near her ear.

            “Bye, Peeta,” she answers, her tongue sluggish as it forms his name. She’s barely even aware of the door as he closes it on his way out of her room, or the gentle hum of his car’s engine as he rushes off towards the hospital.

            Her alarm goes off all too soon and she groans, screwing her eyes shut more tightly, as if by doing so she’ll be able to create a few more hours of sleep. But the beeping just keeps getting louder, so she throws her hand at the alarm, slamming the button as she swings her legs out from under the covers.

            Shuffling herself into the bathroom, she takes a quick shower, not even bothering to dry her hair before she braids it. She doesn’t forgo makeup as she usually does however, taking a moment to put on some eyeliner and mascara once she observes how puffy her eyes still look. She’d rather not have everyone at work commenting on them and asking questions.

            When she makes her way downstairs, her mother is already at the counter, staring out the window where dawn is just beginning to break. The older woman looks tired as she glides a finger around the rim of the old purple mug that has always been her favorite.

            “There’s coffee already made,” Haymitch’s gruff voice comes from behind her, causing Katniss to jump in surprise. While Peeta had told her that her uncle was looking after her mother for the night, it somehow didn’t register that it would mean he would still be here this morning.

            He scoots past her and produces a small flask from the pocket of his worn pants, pouring a liberal amount of clear liquid into his own mug of coffee. Katniss pretends not to notice as she pours herself a cup before adding ample amounts of sugar and cream. It’s been years since she’s bothered to mention anything to Uncle Haymitch about his drinking habits. She figures they each have their own ways of dealing with the broken lives caused by her father’s death. Haymitch’s is just unhealthy.

            “You still going in to work?” he questions as he settles into the seat beside her mother, who still hasn’t acknowledged that anyone else is in the room, as her eyes remain fixed on the world outside the kitchen window.

            Katniss nods. “I was planning to, if you were okay with sticking around for the day.”

            His grey eyes meet hers in a somber stare before he replies, “Sweetheart, I’ll stay as long as you can stand to have me.”

            “Okay,” she replies, ducking her gaze to watch the coffee swirling lazily in the mug. “Thank you.”

            “Anytime,” he declares, clearing his throat before patting her mother’s shoulder affectionately. “Lilly and I will just spend the day bird watching or some shit.”

            Her mother doesn’t respond.

            “I should go then,” Katniss leans forward pressing a quick kiss to Lily’s forehead. “Call the unit if you need anything though, okay?”

            Haymitch snorts, waving her off nonchalantly, as though her assistance would be the last thing he needs.

 

…

 

            Katniss tries her best to block out the noises of the nurses’ station around her. Effie, the unit secretary, is fighting with the Xerox machine that seems to be perpetually broken over in the corner. She’s a prim and proper type of lady, but Katniss is almost certain she’s heard more than a few swear words pass from Effie’s Lips as she turns gears and attempts to extract the latest paper jam.

            The phones have been ringing nearly non-stop this afternoon, and Katniss has barely even started her charting with only a few hours to go before the next shift is due to walk in.

            A sharp sting on her upper arm causes her to turn around with a scowl. Johanna wears a guilty smirk as she twirls a pen that is missing its cap. “Line two is for you, Brainless.”

            “Who is it?” she asks, shooting the other woman her best disapproving glare as she reaches for the phone.

            “Doctor asking about the nurse for room ten,” she replies with a shrug as she turns back to her own charting.

            “Six North, this is Katniss,” she greets once she hits the button for line two.

            “Hi, Katniss.”

            Peeta. His voice sends a shiver through her spine, and Katniss finds herself biting her bottom lip to keep from smiling.

            “I hope you actually need something and you aren’t just checking up on me,” she murmurs quietly. She’s alone at her corner of the nurses’ station since Thom is busy in a room with a patient rather than manning the computer beside hers as he typically does.

            He chuckles softly from the other end of the line and she hears a car alarm sounding in the background. “Actually, it’s a really pleasant coincidence. I am just heading to lunch, but I wanted to check in on Mr. Jones. He’s still just an observation patient and I was wondering if he’s been stress tested yet this morning.”

            “Oh,” she says, straightening up slightly in her chair, ignoring the slight twinge of embarrassment that she thought he would be calling for her. “Well, he went down for a dobutamine stress test this morning, and he passed it. Dr. Patel is going to round early this afternoon to change a few meds on him, but he’s good to go otherwise. His heart rhythm has been fine. No further chest pain.”

            “Good,” Peeta replies, sounding pleasantly surprised that the ninety-five-year old is doing so well. “Is there anything he’ll need before going back? I’ll be around this afternoon to officially discharge him.”

            “No, not for him,” she says, shuffling quickly through her papers to the other patient he will be seeing on his rounds. “But I also have Ms. Birde and her H and H has dropped another point overnight – hemoglobin is 7.2 this morning. I figured if you wanted to transfuse her we could get that going earlier rather than later. She’s been running pretty tachy on the monitor all morning – her heart rate was up to 135 this morning while she was walking around.”

            “Any active bleeding that you know of?” he questions, the muffled sounds of voices in the background now mingling with his own.

            “No, nothing at all. No vomiting and all the stool I’ve seen has looked pretty normal,” she replies.

            “Hmm,” he mumbles. She can imagine the way he’s probably running his hand through his hair at the moment, that thoughtful frown creasing his forehead. “Well, why don’t you order two units of PRBCs to transfuse this afternoon? We can test her stool for blood the next time she goes, and we’ll plan to redraw her H and H every eight hours for twenty-four hours after the transfusion is finished.”

            “Okay,” Katniss replies, jotting down the orders on scrap paper until they can be put into the computer. “We’ll get her typed and crossed and get the process going.”

            “Sure. Thanks, Katniss,” he says distractedly. She can hear someone calling his name in the background, and the phone disconnects before she even has the chance to say goodbye.

            As she writes out the order and inputs it into the computer system, she can’t suppress the disappointment bubbling deep inside of her.

            She doesn’t really care to think about how much it bothers her though, so she stands and leaves the nurses’ station under the pretense of rounding on her patients to make sure they don’t need anything. It keeps her busy for a short while, as she passes pain meds and makes sure everyone has enough warm blankets before she returns and reclaims her seat.

            She’s about halfway through her charting when the phone rings followed shortly by Johanna’s singsong voice, “Brainless, it’s for you again.”

            Her heart gives a hopeful jump, and she ignores her friend’s knowing look as she picks up the phone and presses the blinking button.

            “Six North – this is Katniss.”

            “Hey,” he rasps, his voice deeper than it was earlier when he called. “Sorry I hung up so fast earlier. I was meeting up with Dr. Aurelius for lunch.”

            “Oh,” is all she manages as she settles back into her seat again.

            “How are you?” he asks, his quiet question melting the disappointment she felt earlier. “Are you holding up okay today?”

            “Yeah.” She shrugs though she knows he can’t see her. “Haymitch is at home. He’d call if something happened.”

            Johanna walks past, giving her a curious, sideways glance as she heads to the med room. Katniss slumps further down in her chair; she’d rather not have the entire staff listening in on her conversation.

            “Okay. I was just worried about you.” His voice catches slightly in a way that tugs behind her navel.

            “You don’t need to be,” she murmurs, her teeth worrying her bottom lip as she does.

            “But I do,” he assures her. “Someone needs to.” She can hear the soft ping of his car as he gets in and buckles up. “I called to check after your mom earlier today,” he confesses.

            “Really?” she questions, trying to hide the surprise that he would take such an initiative.

            “Sure.” She can imagine him shrugging shyly. “She sounds like she’s doing alright. Mentioned that she was going to see her doctor soon.”

            “Monday,” Katniss agrees, warmth spreading in her chest at the thought of Peeta worrying over her and her family. It’s something entirely foreign to her that any outsider would care what happens to any of them.

            “That’s good,” he continues. “I’ll be up to the unit shortly, but I wanted to ask you now since I won’t be able to while I’m there…are you doing anything tonight? I’m not on call, so I thought maybe we could have an uninterrupted date. If you wanted to, I mean.”

            He sounds so uncertain as he finishes that she can’t contain the smile that graces her lips. “Sure. I’m not busy. What were you thinking of do—”

            She doesn’t have a chance to finish, as the phone is lifted out of her hand. Katniss looks up to find a smirking Johanna holding the receiver to her ear.

            “Doctor Mellark?” she questions in a syrupy voice, holding back a broad grin when Peeta answers her. “You should take her out—like, out of the house. The poor girl never leaves her home to do anything fun anymore.”

            There’s a pause where Peeta must say something before she adds, “I know. She’s looking at me like going to kill me once she gets me alone. Okay. See you in a little while!”

            Katniss pales as Johanna hangs up the phone. Jo must notice her look of terror because she shrugs. “Don’t worry about it, Brainless. I’m not about to ruin this for you, at least not until we get you laid first. He seems like the type who would be good in the sack.”

            Katniss’s cheeks blush crimson. Thom rounds the corner with a look of surprise. “Do I even want to know who you’re talking about?”

            With a shrug, Johanna turns on her heels and walks down the hallway towards her patient’s room.

 

…

 

            Katniss has been home fifteen minutes when her phone begins to ring. She smiles at the name that pops up on the screen. How far gone is she if the sight of his name in simple white letters can bring a smile to her face?

            All afternoon she had difficulty focusing, her mind lost to her imagination. She couldn’t get Peeta out of her mind, the way he genuinely seems to care about her, the way he held her in his arms while she cried, the way he looked at her just this morning while she was still a sleepy mess. She imagines his smile, the broad muscles of his shoulders, those deft hands and what they could do to her.

            “Hey,” she greets once she presses the button to answer the incoming call.

            “Hi.” He sounds somber, not at all like his usual self.

            “What’s wrong?” She hates the way her voice is breathy when she asks the question, but her chest has suddenly tightened with inexplicable worry. He hasn’t given her any reason to continue believing that he’s going to leave her at any moment, but that doesn’t stop it from being the first conclusion her mind jumps to.

            He sighs, his voice igniting static over the line. “I just got off the phone with the doctor who was supposed to be relieving me tonight so I could have a few days off.”

            “Oh.” She knows where this is going now, disappointment rapidly winding its way through her.

            “He’s sick with the stomach flu and can’t get in,” Peeta states dully, the regret evident in his tone. “He was going to finish the evening rounds. Now that he can’t, I have to.”

            “Right,” she agrees, trying to sound nonchalant even though she’s been looking forward to their date all afternoon. “Of course you do, Peeta. It’s okay.”

            “I’m really sorry, Katniss,” he murmurs tiredly. “I wish I could take you out tonight.”

            “Don’t worry about it,” she replies, biting her bottom lip and hoping that she sounds convincing. “I’ll just call it an early night and get some extra sleep.”

            “I’ll call you tomorrow, okay?”

            She can hear the familiar dinging of call lights going off in the background while he speaks, and she knows he’s probably just arrived to another unit to continue on rounds. A female voice greets him from somewhere nearby.

            “Okay,” she agrees, her gut twisting with jealousy even though she knows it’s ridiculous. Why would she be jealous of the patients and nurses that Peeta will be spending his evening with instead of her? It isn’t as though they are at fault.

            “Have a good night, Katniss,” he says softly, probably trying to keep from being overheard.

            “You too, Peeta.”

            A click is followed by silence as she tosses the phone down on the couch beside her. It’s been a long day, and it’s just turned into an even longer evening alone.

 

…

 

            Her phone buzzes from the coffee table in front of her, drawing her attention away from the rerun of _Toddlers and Tiaras,_ just as two pageant moms are about to have a promising catfight.

 

Peeta 10:17 PM

_I wish I could have been with you tonight. Sorry again._

 

            He probably doesn’t think she’ll get the message until tomorrow morning considering she’s usually in bed by now on nights when she isn’t busy. She types out a quick message and hits send.

 

Katniss 10:18 PM

_It’s been a boring night. Are you still at the hospital?_

 

Peeta 10:18 PM

_Yeah. The E.R. is busy tonight. I’ve been getting pages left and right. I figured it’d just be easier to stay here._

 

Peeta 10:25 PM

_I wish you were here with me. I wish I could touch you._

            She sits up, picking idly at the hem of her blue, penguin pajama pants. He must be tired. She can’t imagine him normally sending a message like his last one, but reading it sends heat pooling deep in her belly.

            She realizes that she wishes she were with him too. Her body aches from wanting him, pining for his touch and his kiss. She rereads the two short sentences.

            The gears begin to churn in her mind. Haymitch is sleeping in Prim’s old room again tonight, and he’s more than capable of keeping watch over her mother. There’s really no reason she needs to spend the night alone in her house watching reruns. Without another moment’s hesitation, she turns off the television and hurries upstairs. If she gives herself more than a minute to think about what she’s going to do, she is certain she will back out of it, but for once, she decides to listen to her body over her mind.

            It’s nearly midnight when Katniss steps off the elevator and into the dimly lit hallway of the hospital. It’s nearly silent here, only the occasional hum of the heating vent to keep her company. She crosses her arms tightly over her chest, clinging tightly to the raincoat she’d thrown on as she hurried out of her house into the cold, early spring night.

            The hallway is lined with several doors that each have a little sign on them that can be flipped to ‘occupied’ or ‘empty,’ and most of them state the former at this hour of the night. 

            _Which room are you staying in?_ She types with shaky fingers, praying that no one comes out of any of the rooms and finds her standing awkwardly in this deserted hall.

            Her phone buzzes after the longest minute of her life and she smiles, heading to the door at the very end of the hallway, knocking softly once she reaches it. She can hear a shuffling of sheets from inside before the lock clicks and the door swings open to reveal a disheveled, tired-looking Peeta.

            “Katniss?” he asks in surprise, his eyes widening slightly as he looks her over with disbelief. “What are you—”

            She doesn’t wait for him to finish the question. She already knew he would be shocked by her visit. Instead she leans up, pressing her lips against his soft, warm ones. Her arms twine around his neck easily, and his arms soon find her waist, tugging her inside the room and closing the door with a swift kick.

            He moans into her mouth when she parts her lips, allowing his tongue to slip past them. She shivers, dragging her fingers through the soft, messy curls atop his head. His chest is bare, she realizes as his arms wrap around her tighter, pressing their torsos together while he stumbles backwards toward the narrow cot in the corner of the room.

            It’s only out of necessity that she pulls away, taking in a deep breath, inhaling the sent of him as she does. His blue eyes glow as they take in the sight of her once more. Peeta settles onto the lumpy mattress, pulling her into his lap, her legs straddling his waist.

            “Hi.” She smiles softly, hoping that this wasn’t one huge mistake, and that he won’t be livid that she’s interrupted his sleep.

            “Hey,” he laughs, his fingers digging softly into her waist, sending electricity pulsing through her. His voice is raspy when he adds, “This is a surprise.”

            “Hopefully a good one,” she murmurs, pressing a kiss to the column of his neck. His semi-hard cock presses against her thigh, and a thrill runs through her, up her spine, to the edges of her very being.

            His eyes darken, and his hands fumble with the buttons of her coat. She helps him, sliding her shoulders out of the slippery fabric, giving way to the simple, green shirt and black yoga pants she’d changed into before leaving the house.

            “It’s a wonderful one,” he states assuredly, his voice hushed as his hands slip beneath the soft fabric of her shirt. His touch is cool against the heated planes of her skin, bringing each nerve to life as his fingers pass over her body.

            Katniss watches him closely, taking note of the tiny crease that forms on his brow, the hesitant, heated spark in his eyes as his thumb brushes the edge of her bra. She leans forward, claiming his lips with her own. He releases a low, deep moan when her tongue slips along the inside of his bottom lip.

            “Katniss.” Her name is just a whisper, a breathless question, when they separate once again. His blue eyes, dark with need, search hers.

            “I – I want you,” she answers, the words stilted and not at all as alluring as she would have liked them to be, but she’s never been good with words anyway. She rolls her hips against his to make her point known, the friction sending a small wave of pleasure lapping through her belly. His fingers tighten against her ribs, his pupils dilate, and she knows she’s got him right where she wants him. 

            Before she can second guess herself, she reaches for the edge of her shirt and tugs it swiftly over her head. His hips thrust against her involuntarily as he groans, his gaze drinking in the sight of the only lacy bra she owns.

            “Shit,” he breathes, one large hand moving to cup her left breast, kneading gently as he does. His free hand tugs at the cup of her bra, releasing her nipple to the cool air and causing it to instantly harden.

            He doesn’t hesitate as he ducks his head, his lips latching on firmly to the tight bud. She whimpers, her hips rocking against him with each brush of his tongue against the pert, dusky nipple, with each nip at the sensitive skin. Her fingers delve into his rich curls, tugging him closer to her, his breath coming in quick puffs against her skin. His lashes flutter as his eyes glance up to meet hers, his tongue flicking against her nipple. His lips give a soft pop as he lets go, the chilly air meeting with the damp skin, causing her to whimper once more.

            “You are so beautiful,” he murmurs, his voice deep with want. Somehow, the way he looks up at her, some mixture of adoration and lust, makes her believe him. She’s never felt beautiful before, but she doesn’t doubt his sincerity.

            Her cheeks flush beneath his words. She wants to say something back, to tell him what she’s feeling, how terrifying it is but how much she wants it. The words don’t come to her though, and instead she finds her fingers fumbling with the ties of his flannel pajama pants. 

            “Damn it,” she curses, scowling at the knot that has somehow formed under her fingers. A rumbling laugh rises from deep within Peeta’s chest; his eyes shine when she looks up at him with irritation. She wishes she could be one of those seductive girls who can pull off coy looks and untie pants easily. How much more embarrassing could she be?

            His hands cover hers, making quick work of the jumbled strings, loosening the waist of his pants. “Sorry,” she mumbles, her fingers toying with the fine line of curls that disappear into the band of his pajamas.

            He chuckles, wrapping his arms around her again and pressing her chest to his. The sound of his laughter sends another wave of pleasure through her. Squirming in his lap, she reaches back, quickly releasing the clasp of her bra and tossing it somewhere across the room.

            It would be so easy to get lost in the smile he gives her when their gazes meet again—one so genuine it causes an ache in her heart, one that shocks her and scares her and makes her want to hold him closer all at once.

            He leans into her, her nipples grazing against the warmth of his chest, his lips finding the sensitive skin where her shoulder meets her neck, sucking gently. “Don’t be sorry,” he whispers, his words sending a chill through her that only makes her want him closer. “You’re perfect, Katniss.”

            His nose nuzzles along her neck as he leans backwards, laying them both down on the cot with a quiet squeak of its springs. She lets her hands roam over his body, exploring slowly, her gaze focused as she takes in the pale skin stretched taut over the firm muscles that have held her so close over the last months.

            A frown pulls at her lips when she notices the small, round scars that dot his upper torso. There aren’t many, half a dozen at most, but it pulls at her heart, somehow familiar to her though she’s never seen them before. His hand comes up to cover hers as her fingers graze one of the scars. He pulls the tips of her fingers to his lips, pressing soft kisses to each one. His tenderness elicits a shy smile from her.

            “I don’t know what you could possibly see in me,” she whispers as though she’s afraid he might agree. She slides down his torso without giving him a chance to answer, tugging his pants with her as she goes, encouraging him to lift his hips so she can release the erection straining against the fabric.

            A flash of sadness finds his eyes, and his hand cups the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her dark locks, pressing gentle circles against her scalp. “You have no idea the effect you have, Katniss Everdeen,” he whispers, the words strained as though he’s willing her into seeing what he does.

            Her hand finds him, wrapping around the satiny skin of his cock, gathering the bead of moisture at the tip before running her palm over his length. His hips arch into her touch, thrusting against her steadily as his breathing becomes more rapid, and he gives a pleased grunt.

            His hand remains entangled in her dark hair, tugging gently when his breath hitches slightly in his chest. She likes the way he feels, the sounds he makes. It warms her belly and heats her blood in a way she’s never felt before. She lowers her head, pressing a kiss to the vein that runs along the underside of his cock before taking him into the warmth of her mouth, reveling in the way his eyes roll back before those long golden lashes flutter and his eyelids close.

            “Jesus,” he whispers, his nails scratching dully at the nape of her neck, encouraging her to take him deeper. She hums her appreciation; Seneca always forced himself on her, often gagging her in the process — but she doesn’t want to think about that — about him. Peeta is gentle, passionate, but she knows she can trust him.

            “Katniss,” he calls out in a guttural moan when her cheeks hollow with effort, her head bobbing over his length. “I – Katniss, I’m gonna—” He pushes at her shoulder in an attempt to convey what she already knows. His hips jerk against her, and a hot spurt of liquid hits the back of her throat. She swallows quickly, suckling his head until his thrusts still, and he collapses against the cot with a disbelieving moan.  

            The tip of her tongue slips past her lips, wetting the swollen skin as she sits up, watching him hesitantly. His eyes open, the piercing blue she loves so much gazing up at her with an intensity she never expected. A hand searches out hers, knitting his fingers between her shaky ones, tugging insistently.

            “C’mere,” he rasps, guiding her to rest her head on the pillow beside him. He gives her a lazy grin, and suddenly she can’t match his stare.

            Has she gone too far? Was this all too fast? Was she insane for coming here, for doing this?

            “Why are you still in these?” he questions, his thumb hooking beneath the band of her yoga pants. He arches an eyebrow, tugging gently.

            She bites back a smile but lifts her hips. She can’t deny him anything when he smiles at her that way. The fabric slips away easily, a stark contrast to her struggles disrobing him. She kicks the pants off once they reach her ankles, leaving her in a pair of panties that suddenly feel tinier under his heated gaze. Peeta drags his fingers along the lacy trim with a smirk. His touch tickles, and she squirms beneath him. He chuckles, settling himself over her and kissing her slowly, his lips moving in tandem with hers, in no hurry for this to end.

            Her lungs ache, burning for air and drowning in Peeta. Her hands glide along the toned muscles of his back, pressing him closer to her, encasing her in his warmth. He pulls away, trailing lazy, heated kisses along her neck, between her breasts, over her navel.

            “Peeta,” she warns breathlessly, but he kneels between her legs, reaching for her ankle and pressing slow kisses along the curve of her calf, up her inner thigh. A shallow breath hitches in her chest. She is speechless as his fingers hook around the thin fabric of her panties. 

            With a lift of her hips and a slip of his hands, she is bared before him. She fights the urge to cross her legs as he takes her in, his eyes lingering over ever inch of her olive skin. She closes her eyes. It shouldn’t make her feel like this. She’s been with a dozen men in the last several years, and she’s never felt so naked, so vulnerable with any of them. Why does he make her feel like this?

            “Katniss,” he calls softly, his breath hot against her thigh. Her eyes snap open in shock to find him smiling softly, his pupils wide pools against the vibrant rings of blue. “Keep your eyes open. I want to watch you.” His hand smoothes along her thigh, pinning her hip to the cot just as the flat of his tongue slips along her core.

            “Peeta, don’t!” she practically shouts, sitting up and quickly snapping her knees together. “What are you doing?” she demands, her fear sounding a lot like anger as she wraps her arms around her legs. She bites her lip, praying to God that she doesn’t do something stupid like cry. Seneca’s old taunts echo in her mind. _You taste terrible! Why would any man want to put their mouth_ there _? Why would you ask me to do something disgusting like that?_

            Peeta’s eyes are wide as he sits up. His look of horror would be impossible to mistake. “Katniss, what’s wrong?” he reaches a hand hesitantly to her shoulder, squeezing gently as he takes a shaky breath. “What did I do? Did I hurt you?”

            She looks away before speaking again. “What were you doing, Peeta?”

            “Katniss.” His finger hooks under her chin, turning her head to face his once more. The frown he wears is one of confusion. “Hey, I didn’t mean to scare you. We don’t have to do anything. I just… I wanted to return the favor.” He hesitates, taking an unsteady breath.  “If you’re not ready for that yet—”

            “Why would you want to do _that_?” she questions, the tips of her ears burning with embarrassment. “It’s disgusting. I know it is. You don’t have to.”

            His jaw drops, his eyes going wide once again. “Wh – why would you think that?”

            She rolls her eyes, ducking her gaze to his chest so she doesn’t have to look at him when she speaks. “You don’t have to play stupid, Peeta. I’ve been with men before. I know it tastes awful.”

            “Who told you that?” he questions with a disbelieving laugh. His face falls once her wide, grey eyes meet his. “Some guy actually told you that? He told you that and you’ve believed it all this time?”

            Her cheeks flush with a new kind of embarrassment now. He’s making fun of her. She slips quickly from the cot, grabbing her clothing as fast as she can manage in hopes that she might still be able to save some of her dignity tonight.

            “Katniss,” he calls, the word laden with sorrow. She hates his pity. She fucking hates it. “Katniss.” His hand wraps firmly around her upper arm, and she turns quickly, grasping her shirt to her naked chest, her face distorted by the sour taste of humiliation.

            “Just forget it, Peeta,” she whispers bitterly, precariously close to tears. She needs to get out of here.

            He doesn’t let go though. He pulls her to his chest, nestling her against the warmth that she so craved only minutes ago, and she begins to melt instantly. He buries his face against her hair, his nose nuzzling gently against her neck, sending a shiver through her traitorous body.

            “It’s not disgusting,” he murmurs, his lips grazing her ear. “Just thinking about it makes me hard.” His voice makes her knees go weak in spite of herself. Her resolve begins to shatter the second she hears the deep groan rise from his throat. “I want to make you fall apart under my mouth. I want to make you moan my name until you’re hoarse.” He begins to guide them back towards the cot, lowering her beneath him once more. “I want to taste you. I want to make your thighs tremble around me.”

            The way he describes it makes it sound like something beautiful, like something to be enjoyed, not only by her, but by him as well. He settles her beneath him, pressing a sweet kiss to her lips, waiting until she can’t help but kiss him back, her lips dancing slowly with his.

            As the kiss ends, he brushes the stray hairs back from her face, watching her carefully. “Will you let me show you?” He kisses her cheek. “Please?”

            She watches him silently for a long moment. His eyes proclaim his sincerity; that much is easy to see. Raising one hand, she lets her fingers travel the firm line of his jaw, the gentle slope of his nose, trace the arc of his forehead. If she can trust anyone, it would be this man. She hasn’t known him long, but she can’t doubt his earnestness. She nods. “Okay.”

            He presses a tender kiss to her lips, slowly retracing the path along her body until his mouth is once again inches away from her most private place. She closes her eyes tightly as she fights with her mind to keep the memories of Seneca’s malicious words at bay.

            “Stay with me, Katniss,” he murmurs, pressing a gentle kiss right above the apex of her thighs. She trembles realizing suddenly how much her body wants his mouth a little lower. His hand finds hers, his fingers twining reassuringly with hers.

            Slowly, she opens her eyes to meet his. He doesn’t look away for a single moment as he lowers his mouth to her. His free hand moves to hold her hips still as she arches up into the wet warmth of his mouth. She lets out a shuddering breath, her eyes pinned to his as his tongue laps along her slit, up, until his lips latch onto that small bud of nerves. His tongue flicks slowly against it and she keens, her toes curling against the scratchy hospital sheets.

            She whimpers, writhing against him, her hands delving into his curls as she loses herself in his touch. He laps eagerly at her arousal, the tip of his nose brushing that tender bundle of nerves, and she tugs firmly at his hair, pulling him closer. He hums his appreciation, and the vibrations send her hips bucking against his face.

            She would have half a mind to be embarrassed if her every sense wasn’t lost in Peeta. He smiles against her, his pupils wide with desire. His teeth graze her clit, and she bites back a scream as spears of pleasure shoot through her, igniting her with a want so carnal she doesn’t think she could stop now if she tried. What’s building inside of her is unlike anything she’s felt before.

            “Let go, Katniss,” he growls, the words causing her muscles to shake. “I want to hear you fall apart.”

            His tongue slips through her wetness before his lips latch around her clit one last time, sucking firmly with a flick of his tongue. Her back arches and her thighs clamp against him. Her fingers tug at his soft, golden curls. “Peeeeeta!” she cries, riding the waves of pleasure crashing through her as his tongue laps gently against her. Her body shudders, her muscles twitching in the aftershocks of bliss. His thumb presses gentle circles into her thigh as he sits up, shuffling up the bed until his body is aligned with hers again.

            He gives her a look that she is too delirious to truly process as she grins up at him. Her body is utterly relaxed when he leans down and kisses her, his tongue slipping to meet with hers. She is hesitant at first when she tastes herself on him, but the mixture is almost erotic as his tongue melds gently with hers.

            “See?” he rasps once he pulls away slightly, his lips still close enough to brush against hers as he speaks. “That’s not disgusting,” he adds firmly. She leans forward, capturing his lips again in a lazy kiss.

            He smiles softly when they pull apart, gathering her to his chest. She rests her cheek against him, listening to the quick thud of his heart. His hand slowly traces the curve of her waist, and he buries his nose against her hair, inhaling deeply.

            “Peeta, I—” she stops, tilting her head back so she can take in the hard line of his jaw. He angles his chin down, observing her with a look that makes her belly tingle. “Thanks,” she finishes lamely.

            He gives her a sated smile. “It was my pleasure, Katniss. You’re even more beautiful when you come.”

            She snorts disbelievingly, giving his chest a playful smack, but he simply takes her hand in his, lacing their fingers and pressing a kiss to the back of her hand.

            “You’re perfect,” he whispers, his words laced with sleep.

            Her eyelids grow heavy as his breathing evens out, and she snuggles closer to his chest, reveling in the warmth his body gives.

            “Stay with me, tonight?” he questions.

            “Okay,” she agrees, nestling her body closer to his. She couldn’t bring herself to leave him now if she tried.

 

…

 

            Katniss returns home with the sunrise, Peeta having risen early to get a head start on the day’s rounds. She doesn’t notice the giddy smile on her lips as she slips through the doorway and tosses her keys and phone onto the small table beside the door. Her mind is too preoccupied with memories of last night and waking this morning in Peeta’s arms to notice the willowy, blonde woman sitting on the old loveseat with her arms crossed over her chest.

            “Ahem.”

            Katniss freezes, her wide, grey eyes snapping from her reverie.

            “Prim!” Her tone gives away her shock at finding her baby sister sitting right in front of her. The younger woman doesn’t make to move so Katniss crosses the room. “I didn’t know you were coming home.”

            “Well, you wouldn’t.” The words are cold coming from Prim’s lips, her eyes flashing with icy anger. “You’ve been lying to me, Katniss. Were you ever planning on telling me about everything that’s been going on?” 

            Katniss can feel the guilt blush across her cheeks. They both know exactly what Prim is referring to and she knows it’s abundantly clear to both of them that she was never going to burden Prim with the truth. It’s always been like this. Katniss has always felt the need to shelter Prim, even as she grew older. It’s become the one major source of contention between them.

            “Haymitch called me,” she explains once the silence begins to stretch on for too long. “He’s worried about you.”

            Prim levels her with a pointed look. Katniss decides to ignore it, not prepared to delve so deeply into the swell of emotions that she’s been keeping locked away as best she can over the last several months. It is then that she realizes how quiet the house is—not even the murmur of the television in the den drifts up to them.

            “Where are they?” she questions, earning a frustrated look from the younger woman.

            “I sent them out to the store,” Prim waves a delicate hand through the air as though pushing the thought aside, indicating that her attention will not be swayed easily today. “I wanted to talk to you without Mom around.”

            “There’s not much to talk about, Prim.” Katniss shrugs, but she can’t stop the way she shifts her weight nervously between her feet. Judging by the look her little sister is giving her, Prim doesn’t miss the nervous tick.

            “Liar.” Try as she might to maintain a stern look, the younger woman’s lips turn up ever so slightly. “Will you sit down?” She pats the seat beside her. “You’re making _me_ nervous, and I’m supposed to be the inquisitor.”  

            Katniss collapses onto the cushion with a defeated sigh. There’s no use in fighting it. If there’s one similarity between the sisters, it’s the stubbornness they both inherited from their father. Prim isn’t going to let any of this go until all of her questions are answered.

            “Uncle Haymitch told me about the other night…that Mom tried to kill herself.”

            “It’s under control,” Katniss assures her, but the shake in her voice is a dead giveaway. She takes a steadying breath. “She has an appointment Monday with her doctor. We’ll see about getting her meds adjusted again.”

            “She should be in the hospital,” Prim argues, turning in her seat to face Katniss with a look of surprise. “Don’t tell me that you don’t think this is really serious, Katniss?”

            “Of course I do!” she spits, wringing her hands against one another to conceal the way they shake at the thought of what could have happened. “I know how lucky we were that she called, and that Haymitch was nearby when it happened.”

            “Then why didn’t you take her directly to the E.R. after you found her?”

            They stare one another down for a long, silent moment. Katniss wonders when Prim grew to be so confrontational and reasons it probably has a lot to do with her medical school training. It would difficult to remain the perfectly sweet, innocent, quiet girl that Katniss practically raised when she’s dealing with critically ill patients on a regular basis.

            “I have things under control!” Katniss blurts out, throwing her hands up in frustration. “We got her wrists stitched up, and Haymitch hasn’t left her since it happened.”

            “Have you completely lost your mind?” Prim demands, standing in a swift movement and turning to face her sister with a disappointed glare. “This isn’t something you should be dealing with alone – or at all! This is something for the professionals. Mom clearly isn’t regulated on her meds. That’s not something you can fix by trying harder.”

            “I know that,” Katniss says softly, tugging at the end of her braid with still shaky hands.

            The fact of the matter is that Prim has hit the nail on the head, and they both know it. Katniss has spent too many years trying to prove that she’s capable of caring for her mother.

            “Katniss…” She can’t look at her younger sister because she knows she’ll find pity in the younger woman’s eyes. She can’t stand pity.

            They are spared an awkward silence when her phone pings softly from its place on the table near the door. The screen flashes brightly, and Prim turns to grab it before Katniss even makes to move. When the blonde turns around again, a small frown pulls at her pretty face as she stares down at the screen in her hand.

            “Who’s Peeta?”

            Katniss’s eyes snap from the floor to her sister’s blue ones, her heart skipping wildly against her chest all the while. Prim arches an eyebrow curiously, holding out the phone so the screen faces her sister. There’s no denying the little black box that flashes in the center of the screen, Peeta’s name written across the top.

            “And why is he texting you that last night was amazing, and he wishes you could have been there to enjoy an eighty-six-year old man’s groin rash with him?”

            Katniss bites her bottom lip, trying to hide the smile that pulls at her lips despite her terror over Prim discovering that she has been keeping the man in her life a secret. She shakes her head slowly, reaching out for the phone and typing a quick reply when Prim hands it to her.

            “Katniss,” Prim repeats, tapping her foot warningly against the floor, “who is Peeta?”

            “He – he’s,” she pauses. How does she describe him? Are they dating? They haven’t really broached the subject, but it certainly seems like he’s more than just a guy she’s spending time with — especially after last night; at least she thought that it was more than just a random hookup. “He’s a doctor at the hospital.”

            Prim has never been good at concealing her emotions, another similarity between the two women, and Katniss can’t mistake the shock as her words register.

            “And the doctor has your number because?”

            Katniss sucks in a deep breath before letting the words tumble from her lips, “We’ve been seeing each other.”

            “You’re dating a doctor that you work with,” Prim states flatly, clearly bothered by the notion.  

            “It’s not like that—”

            “I didn’t say it was like anything!” she counters. “I just don’t know if it’s a good idea…” Prim settles back into her seat, letting her words trail off. She doesn’t need to finish anyway. Katniss has already thought of every problem there could be with such a relationship herself. 

            “He’s not like that,” Katniss assures her, softly adding, “He was there the night Mom hurt herself. He was the one who sewed her back up for me.”

            Blue eyes meet grey, creating a pregnant silence. Katniss picks nervously at the hem of her shirt, waiting for Prim’s final judgment on the matter, because no matter how much she tries to tell herself it doesn’t, her baby sister’s opinion means the world to her. 

            “When do I get to meet him?” she questions with a heavy sigh, her pale hand reaching for her sister’s darker one.

            Katniss smiles for the first time since she walked through the door, and she shakes her head. “I don’t know. He’s busy for the next few days.”

            “Busy?” Prim questions suspiciously. “He doesn’t want to meet the rest of your family?”

            “No.” Katniss shakes her head firmly, immediately understanding where Prim’s train of thought is going with this. Prim never kept it a secret how she felt about Seneca Crane. “I’m sure he would love to, but he’s a hospitalist. He’s on call and it makes it hard for him to get away –“

            “I know what it’s like to be a hospitalist, Katniss,” Prim snorts with a dramatic roll of her eyes. Of course she does. Prim has worked with a handful of hospitalists herself during her clinical rotations. “But I still want to meet him,” she adds firmly. “No excuses. They granted me a week of leave from school and hospital rounds when I explained what was going on.”

            “You don’t have to do that,” she says, imagining all the work that Prim will have to make up. “Everything is okay here.”

            “No, it’s not,” Prim argues stubbornly. “I’m staying, Katniss, whether you like it or not. I’m going with you and Mom to her appointment Monday, and I’m meeting your doctor boyfriend.”

            They stare at each other once more before an uncontrollable smile breaks across Katniss’s lips. She shakes her head and stands, wrapping her arms around the slight frame of her little sister.

            “When did you get to be so damn pigheaded?” she asks, breathing in the sweet sent that will always be intrinsically linked to Prim—fresh and floral and light.

            Prim snorts. “I learned from the best. What would you expect?”

            Katniss chuckles, pulling back slightly from their embrace to take in the sight of the woman before her once more. She’s not sure how her baby sister managed to blossom under the harsh conditions of their upbringing, but Katniss is so very proud of her. 

            “Please tell me you brought breakfast with you,” Katniss says, breaking the easy silence between the two.

            Prim laughs easily, pointing to the partially obscured dining room table laden with several plates of pancakes and bacon and eggs.

            “Did you really think I would drive all the way home and not feed you?” Prim rolls her eyes as Katniss quickly crosses the room, breathing deeply to take in the heavenly aroma. 

            The sound of the front door opening draws both of their attentions to Haymitch as he shuffles over the threshold closely followed by their mother. The corners of Lily’s mouth turn up slightly as she silently removes her coat and makes her way upstairs to her bedroom.

            “Have you two settled things yet, or should I drag your mother back out with me?” Haymitch questions gruffly as he hangs up his own coat.

            “It’s fine, Uncle Haymitch,” Prim says, crossing the room and giving him a hug that he pretends not to enjoy.

            Katniss watches the exchange through narrowed eyes, and he arches an eyebrow in her direction when he notices. “What’s your problem, Sweetheart?”

            “You knew I didn’t want Prim to worry,” she answers coolly. “There’s a reason I didn’t call her myself.”

            “Well,” he gives an irritated huff, “excuse me for playing the concerned uncle, but I just didn’t feel like dealing with two mental breakdowns in the same week.”

            She gives an exasperated sigh, but doesn’t argue further as she goes to the kitchen and begins dishing out food.

            As they sit down together, it almost feels like they’ve been transported back to when she was only seventeen. She can’t remember the last time they were all gathered around the table together. And her mother sits across from her, staring blankly at the wall, as vacant and unavailable as ever. She wonders if any of this will ever change—if things will ever really get better

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for your patience in waiting for this chapter. Life has been brutal lately, but things seem to be on the upward swing so hopefully updates will be more regular again. As always, I adore hearing what you’re thinking about the story. Feel free to let me know either through a review or finding me on tumblr at therebelliondies dot tumblr dot com. And once again many, many thanks go out to Court81981 for her fantastic and speedy beta work. You’re the best, darling. I don’t know how you always manage it!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so very much for your unending support of this story. Your reviews mean the world to me, as does your patience. The last several months have been very trying for me and writing took to the back burner. If it wasn't for everyone's encouragement to continue writing this story, I don't know where we would be right now. I hope you find this chapter worth the extremely long wait. Enjoy!

_Present_

 

            Lily heads straight to her bedroom once they walk through the front door of the house, and Prim watches their mother with a worried frown. “Does she always do that?”

            “After appointments she does.” Katniss shrugs helplessly as she tosses her keys on the table beside the door.

            They spent all morning and a good part of the afternoon out at Greenfields with her mother’s psychiatrist. It took a lot of convincing on Katniss’s part, but somehow she’d managed to persuade the older man to let Lily stay at home while they attempt to adjust her meds again after last week’s suicide attempt.

            It’s going to be tougher now. Lily will be attending therapy sessions once a day, and Katniss isn’t sure how she’s going to get her mother to and from Greenfields on the days she has work, but she couldn’t force her mother to be institutionalized again so soon after she was released.

            Prim remains skeptical of the entire situation, even after the long discussion they had during the entire ride home. She doesn’t seem convinced that Lily will be safe at home even with Haymitch watching over her when Katniss can’t be at the house.

            “Don’t you worry about her, Katniss?” Prim questions now, her brow furrowing as she stares at the empty staircase.

            She stares blankly at the younger girl for a long minute until her sister’s blue eyes meet hers. “Of course I do,” she says quietly, “but you’re not always here, Prim. You don’t know her routines like I do. She needs some time. There’s no point in bothering her. She’ll be okay by dinnertime—or as okay as Mom ever is.”

            “Well, I’m sorry I’m not always here,” Prim retorts, an irritated edge in her voice. “You were the one that encouraged me to get out of town and see the world—”

            “I didn’t mean it like that, and you know it,” she argues, tugging anxiously at her braid. “I _did_ want you to get out of here. You’re going to do great things, Prim.”

            A pregnant silence falls between them as they both stare at the floor. Katniss nearly jumps when her sister’s gentle hand reaches out and gives her arm a squeeze.

            “That doesn’t mean I can’t help,” Prim reminds her. “I’m not ten anymore; I can handle the truth.”

            Katniss rolls her eyes in hopes that it will hide the tears that begin to gather upon hearing her baby sister’s words. She fixes a smile on her lips before joking, “I turn around for one minute and all of a sudden you’re grown up.”

            Prim snorts and heads towards the kitchen. “So what are we making for dinner?”

            “Prim,” she argues, trailing after her sister. “It’s my dinner. I can cook the food.”

            “Really.” Prim arches a pale eyebrow, fixing Katniss with a disbelieving stare. “You want to woo the guy, Katniss, not poison him.”

            “I can cook!” she retorts with a huff, pulling ingredients from the cabinets to avoid the narrowed blue eyes following her about the room.

            “Kraft macaroni doesn’t really count as dinner when you’re an adult, sis.” It’s impossible not to hear the laughter in the Prim’s voice.

            Katniss turns to face her and bites her bottom lip. It’s the truth; both women know it. While she was able to keep her family afloat in terms of food while they were growing up, Katniss was never much of a chef. To this day, she still doesn’t understand how she managed to set the toaster on fire while making Pop-Tarts one morning before school.

            “What were you going to try to make?” Prim questions, maintaining a casual stance where she rests a hip against the counter.

            “Fine,” Katniss sighs, pulling out the recipe for a chicken in white wine-and-mushroom sauce that she printed off from the Internet. Prim glances over the ingredients before smiling up at her.

            “You were really going to make something on the stove that has alcohol as an ingredient?” Her blue eyes twinkle with laughter, earning one of Katniss’s signature scowls. “Were you _trying_ to make this night end in disaster?”

            There’s a silent pause before both girls burst into laughter, and Katniss smacks her baby sister’s shoulder halfheartedly. “Shut up you little brat. I would have made it work.”

            “Sure,” Prim gasps, her hand pressed against her stomach as she continues to laugh. “Peeta could have bandaged your hands from all the damn burns you would have gotten.”

            They quickly dissolve into chuckles, but it only takes a glance at one another before they fall into another hearty round of laughter again, unable to control themselves now that they’ve started. Katniss wipes the back of her hands along her cheeks as she catches the tears streaking down her skin. Her stomach hurts in that glorious way that only a good bout of silly laughter can cause.

            “Wh–what else,” Prim gasps as she tries to regain her composure and act like the mature adults that they both are. “What else were you planning to make?”

            Katniss shrugs. “I don’t know. I guess a salad and some rice.”

            Prim nods and goes to work about the kitchen as she gathers the necessary supplies. “Why don’t you just stick to the salad and let me work on the rest?”

            “Because it’s my dinner!” she repeats, snatching the saucepan from her sister.

            “Do everyone a favor,” Prim begs, pulling the pan back from Katniss’s grasp, “and make the best damn salad you’ve ever created.”

 

…

 

            “This is delicious!” Peeta praises through a mouthful of chicken. His hand finds Katniss’s where hers rests atop the table, and he gives it a light squeeze. “You don’t realize how much you miss real food until you’ve been on call for a week and only eaten crap.”

            “Like what?” Prim questions from across the table where she sits beside their mother.

            “Well,” Peeta shrugs, wiping his napkin across his mouth as he thinks for a moment. “Yesterday’s dinner consisted of some graham crackers that they stock on the nursing unit. I couldn’t get away long enough for anything better before the cafeteria closed.”

            “You can thank Prim for the chicken and the rice,” Katniss states, her cheeks blushing slightly when he turns to her with a confused look. “She commandeered the kitchen. I’ve already told you I’m not the greatest cook.”

            “But Katniss _did_ make the salad,” Prim points out with a chuckle as she stabs at the leafy greens, lightly tossed in raspberry vinaigrette.

            “And it’s the best salad I’ve probably ever had,” he gushes with a grin that lets Katniss know he’s messing with her just as much as Prim.

            Her cheeks burn beneath stare and she nearly jumps out of her seat when his hand comes to rest on her upper thigh. Her gaze snaps toward her sister, who is oblivious to his attentions below the table, and she releases a slow breath.

            “Would you like more rice, Mom?” Prim questions of their silent mother who has been picking at her dinner for the majority of the meal. Lily had showered prior to Peeta’s arrival, but anything more was clearly beyond her energy and her hair hangs in a pale, golden sheet about her shoulders.

            “No, thank you,” Lily replies, her voice somewhat hoarse from disuse.

            “But you’ve hardly eaten anything else,” Prim presses, her tone encouraging as she scoops another pile of rice onto their mother’s plate.

            Lily pushes the dish away and stands abruptly. “I said no. I’m finished. It was lovely seeing you again, Peeta.”

            It’s the first she’s addressed their guest and he stands awkwardly, reaching a hand out to her. To everyone’s surprise, she takes it and Peeta smiles brightly. The room is silent, save for the sound of Lily’s retreating footsteps until Prim clears her throat and Peeta reclaims his seat.

            “So,” Prim starts, her fingers fiddling with the edge of the table until she looks up. “I guess now that it’s just us three there’s no point in beating around the bush. What exactly are your intentions with my sister?”

            “Prim!” Katniss shouts, slamming a hand down on the table with a look of horror.

            “It’s a reasonable question!” Prim argues, a scowl not unlike Katniss’s on her features. “You’re a doctor. My sister is a nurse at the same hospital. Do you really think it’s wise for you two to be carrying on an intimate relationship—”

            “Stop it!” Katniss stands, her face burning and her hands trembling—from anger or embarrassment she can’t quite say.

            “I’m just saying, Katniss!” Prim counters. “What happens when this thing ends?”

            Tears sting her eyes and Katniss has to bite her tongue to keep from screaming at the younger woman.

            “It’s okay.” Peeta’s soothing voice breaks the tension. “Prim just cares about you.” His hand finds one of Katniss’s, and she closes her eyes tightly when he tugs, pulling her back down to her seat beside him. “It may not be the most prudent decision to start a relationship when we work so closely with one another. But I care very deeply for your sister,” Peeta explains calmly.

            “You hardly know each other,” Prim points out. “What will you do if it doesn’t last?”

            “We’re both adults.” Peeta shrugs. “I imagine we’ll get along just fine in a working capacity.”

            “You clearly don’t know my sister,” Prim mutters.

            “Stop it, Prim,” Katniss hisses, her silver eyes molten with fury and fear.

            “If you haven’t told him, you should,” her sister retorts, her voice hushed as though the words are too heavy to be spoken loudly. “He deserves to know about everything you went through—how being with Seneca—”

            “No.”

            It’s only one word, but the silence that follows it is deadly, and Peeta glances nervously between the two women. Katniss stares at Prim with such venom that it’s surprising the younger woman doesn’t drop dead instantly.

            It’s Peeta who clears his throat now, running a hand along the back of his neck as he does. “I don’t plan on leaving your sister anytime soon,” he assures Prim, his tone leaving no room for argument.

            Katniss lets out a heavy sigh. Tonight has gone much differently than she imagined, or rather – hoped, it would. She’ll kill Prim once they’re alone with one another. She should never have subjected Peeta to her family so soon. It’s asking too much. Surely he will change his mind and leave her now that he sees what a mess her life is—and he’s only seen the tip of the iceberg.

            “Katniss tells me that you’ve just started medical school,” Peeta says, once again breaking through the tense silence of the dining room, trying to steer the conversation towards more neutral territory. “How are you liking it so far?”

            Prim taps her perfectly manicured nails against the table for a moment before responding, her blue eyes somehow challenging as she peers up at the man across from her. “It’s alright. Hard. Busy. But it’s what I’ve always wanted to do. When did you know you wanted to be a doctor?” she counters smoothly.

            “I was about twelve, I think,” Peeta replies easily. A faint smile tugs at his lips. “I realized that there is something very special about healing a person.”

            “Why internal medicine? What made you decide to be a hospitalist?” It’s clear Prim thinks he might have lost his mind sometime during medical school. Working as a hospitalist is a demanding and often thankless job.

            Peeta shrugs. “I like working in the hospital. Sure there are downsides, but I like meeting new people, and I don’t think I was ever cut out to have my own practice and sit in an office for most of the day.”

            Prim nods, appearing temporarily satisfied by his answers.

            A ringtone breaks through the quiet of the dining room and Peeta gives a frustrated sigh as he reaches into his pocket. “Sorry,” he apologizes, silencing the phone, but not before Katniss sees Finnick’s name on the screen. He absently sets the phone on the table before looking up again.

            Prim opens her mouth to speak but before she is able to form a single word, the phone starts vibrating loudly on the table. Peeta’s cheeks turn pink as he reaches for the little black box. Finnick’s name is on the screen again.

            “I should probably take this,” he mutters, his chair scraping loudly along the floor as he presses the button to answer the call.

            “What’s wrong, Finn?” he asks as he walks quickly from the room, his hand grazing Katniss’s shoulder lightly as he goes. Prim gives Katniss a sharp look and the room remains silent after Peeta’s departure, his muffled conversation drifting back to them.

            It’s not long before his large form enters the doorway again, a worried frown pulling at his lips. He slips the phone back into his pocket but doesn’t make any move to sit back down. Katniss’s stomach drops uncomfortably, and she suddenly wishes she hadn’t just been eating.

            “There’s an emergency at the hospital,” he says, his voice tight as he shuffles his weight from one foot to the other. “Finnick needs some extra hands to help out­—”

            “I thought you were off duty,” Prim points out coolly, her eyebrows knit tightly together. “I thought there was some other doctor on call.”

            “This is a personal favor. It’s a big case and the ER was already busy to begin with.” His hand runs anxiously through his curls. “They need more hands than they’ve got.”

            He’s upset, tension tightly wound through his shoulders. Katniss wishes she could take it away. “Do they need nurses?” she questions.

            His eyes finally meet hers with a flash of relief before he nods. “It wouldn’t hurt.”

            She stands without another thought. Prim looks put out when Katniss turns toward at her again.

            “I’m sorry,” she says. “We’ll try it again before you leave, okay? I promise we’ll have a nice dinner.”

            Prim rolls her eyes but shrugs. “It’s part of the job, right?” The small smile that pulls on her sister’s lips gives Katniss some comfort. At least she knows Prim won’t hold this ruined dinner against Peeta.

            Peeta leads the way to his car, opening the door silently for her before jogging around and getting in behind the wheel. As he pulls away from the curb, the car moving at a clipped pace, Katniss reaches a hand over, her fingers pressing gently into the tight muscles of his shoulder.

            “What’s the emergency?” she asks quietly, trying her best to keep her voice mellow and soothing.

            “A DCFS case.” His words are cool and short, so unlike the Peeta she’s come to know so well.

            “How many kids are there?” It’s as though a rubber band has suddenly been tied around her chest. As a nurse on an adult medical-surgical unit, Katniss doesn’t normally deal directly with cases of child abuse and neglect. However, the news passes quietly amongst the staff throughout the hospital whenever a case does come in.

            Katniss’s only experience with the Department of Child and Family Services was right after her father died, when Haymitch was appointed guardian over her and her sister. There were a few scattered visits from a social worker, but he somehow quickly managed to prove that they were a functional family, and their days of dealing with DCFS were pretty much over.

            “Seven.” His knuckles are white against the steering wheel and Katniss realizes that his normally pale skin is drained of all color in the dim streetlights as they pass.

            A tense silence permeates the car until they pull up to the physicians’ parking. Peeta releases a shuddering breath before getting out of the car. Katniss has never seen him this anxious. It’s disconcerting, his emotions bleeding into hers, causing her anxiety to increase tenfold.

            “Finnick said he’d be back in Trauma Bay 1,” Peeta states, nodding towards the back of the ER and leading the way.

            Katniss follows slowly behind him, trying to block out the din that seems intrinsically linked with every ER in the world. Patients coughing, moaning, crying, mixed with nurses giving directions, doctors giving orders, phones ringing—and in the middle of it all bodies are rushing back and forth from one bay to another.

            A haggard-looking Finnick comes into view as they reach the door to the trauma bay. He looks up when Peeta moves to stand in the doorway and nods, crossing the room to meet them. Katniss catches the glimpse of the patient over Finnick’s shoulder and her blood runs cold.

            He can’t be older than twelve and though a boy of his age should be vivacious and rowdy, this boy’s eyes don’t even open when they approach. Peeta’s cheeks blanch and she knows he has seen the boy as well. Katniss finds herself looking at the machinery surrounding the small body, checking off possible diagnoses as she looks at the IV’s dripping and the vitals monitor, among other things.

            “Thanks for coming,” Finnick breathes, exhaustion rife in every movement his body makes. “Peet, if you could work with the boy in bay ten. His name is Daniel—“

            “Are they all as bad as…” he trails off, his voice too choked to finish his thought, though he never looks away from the little boy over Finnick’s shoulder.

            “No,” Finnick replies. “He bore the brunt of it from the looks of things. But, Peeta, it’s pretty bad. Will you be all—”

            “Bay ten?” Peeta cuts the other man off. Katniss has never seen him this way and reaches for his hand. His fingers are clammy as they give hers a shaky squeeze before he heads towards the bay Finnick had mentioned. She wishes he would look at her, give her some sign that he’ll be all right. Katniss gets the distinct impression that he might not be, that this case might eat away at him.

            Finnick sighs heavily, watching the blond head of curls as they disappear amongst the crowded ER before he turns back to Katniss. “I could use your help in here, if you’re okay with it,” he states, nodding back towards the trauma bay. “We’re waiting for MRI results before we decide what we’re going to do with him.”

            “Okay,” she replies quietly, barely loud enough to be heard over all the noise in the hallway.

            Finnick grabs a pair of gloves from a box mounted on the wall as they enter and Katniss follows suit. She can see the IV drips more readily now and notices a bag of Mannitol hanging from one pole. A Versed drip infuses slowly into a second IV.

            “He has a traumatic brain injury?” Katniss questions, reaching for a clipboard with several spreadsheets used to monitor the boy’s vital signs and level of sedation.

            “We’re not sure yet,” Finnick responds, pulling wound care supplies from a cupboard above the sink. “The MRI results will tell us more, but he clearly has head injuries. The X-ray showed several fractures to his skull, most of them old. I didn’t want to take any chances wasting time though.

            “Can you pull the curtain and lower his gown?” he asks, snapping on a pair of sterile gloves. “He has some lacerations I want to take a closer look at and make sure they don’t need stitches.

            Something cold and hard forms in the pit of her stomach as Katniss pulls the thin, green gown back from the boy’s torso. He’s covered in bruises, his skin a mottled canvas of yellow, blue, and purple splotches. Near his shoulders there are several deep cuts oozing blood through the steri-strips that must have been haphazardly applied when he first arrived to the ER.

            Finnick sighs, using a pair of forceps to remove the narrow strips that are now saturated with blood. The boy begins to stir slightly when Finnick swipes antiseptic over and around the area. “What are his vitals looking like?” he questions, his brow furrowed with concentration as he continues to clean the wounds.

            “Blood pressure stable. Oxygen saturations are still in the nineties. Respirations 16 per minute,” Katniss replies, as she looks over the spreadsheet to ensure that each vital sign is trending stable.

            “Okay,” Finnick nods, busying himself with a needle and suture thread. “Go ahead and bump the rate on that Versed up another 0.5 mg. I’m going to give him some local anesthetic, but I don’t want him waking up too much.”

            She programs the new dose of the sedative into the IV pump, noting the change on the charting as well. It doesn’t take long before the boy settles again, his muscles relaxing as Finnick infuses small amounts of Lidocaine just beneath the skin surrounding the wounds. 

            His hands are quick, their motions smooth as he sews up the lacerations. A knock at the door to the bay pulls her attention away from Finnick’s work. An ER tech hands her a CD and printed report of the boy’s MRI.

            Finnick glances up for a moment when she steps into view again. His lips press tightly together when he sees the small, white envelope. “Can you pull it up on the computer there while I finish up?”

            “Sure,” she boots up the computer mounted to the wall of the room, keeping a close eye on the monitor still collecting the boy’s vitals while Finnick works. “His saturations are dropping. He’s down to 90%. End tidal CO2 is down too.”

            “Respirations?” He grabs a pair of scissors, snipping at the final suture.

            “Twelve. I’m bumping his oxygen up to three liters,” she states, turning the dial on the meter in the wall.

            Finnick nods, pulling off his gloves and reaching for the printed report still grasped in her free hand. His green eyes flit across the sheet before he turns to the computer, viewing the image for himself with subtle nods as though answering questions only he can hear.

            “Looks like there’s minimal swelling considering the fractures we found earlier,” Finnick mutters after staring at the screen for a long moment. His green eyes find hers looking very much like she’s feeling right now. It’s a small victory and not one that she takes any joy in.

            “I want to clean some of the smaller wounds while he’s still sedated,” Finnick says, motioning to several round, puckered scabs that appear infected. Katniss hadn’t noticed them at first.

            “What are those from?” she questions with an unsteady voice, a scowl pulling at her brow as she hands him a fresh pair of gloves.

            “They look like cigarette burns,” he replies gravely, his face taut as he presses around the tender flesh. “These look like they’ve developed abscesses beneath them.”

            Her stomach curdles, and she has to swallow against the bile rising in her throat. It’s disgusting to think that any human being could do something like this to another, but to know that this boy was harmed by the very people who were supposed to protect him—it’s unthinkable for Katniss. To know that this boy’s parents, his very own flesh and blood, allowed this to happen makes her ill.

            “How could a parent do this?” she whispers, her words searing with hatred. Anger boils through her blood.

            Finnick shakes his head as he deftly lances one of the areas, releasing the infection from beneath the boy’s skin. “I don’t know, Katniss. I’ll never understand it either.”

            Her eyes burn with tears as she notices much older, healed scars—round, white dots scattered across the soft skin of the child before her. It’s then she realizes where she’s seen scars like this before. Small areas of puckered skin on a pale chest. Her hands clench into fists, shaking silently at her sides. She has to bite her tongue to keep from screaming.

            “Why did you call Peeta?” she asks, earning a sharp glance from Finnick while he drains the wound before swabbing the area with antiseptic and covering it with gauze.

            “We needed the help,” Finnick reasons, moving on to the next area of infection. “And I knew he wouldn’t say no.”

            “Why?” The word is barely a whisper, and how he can hear her over the din of the ER she’ll never know, but he does. She can tell by the way his shoulders tighten and his hands still momentarily.

            “It’s not my story to tell, Katniss,” he murmurs, his eyebrows furrowing together as he finishes the job at hand. “But I think you have a good idea why I chose Peeta.”

            He doesn’t need to say anything more. A chill runs through her body and she glances over her shoulder. There’s a small crack between the curtains that allows her to see a sliver of the ER outside of this trauma bay, but she doesn’t see Peeta. She is filled with an urge to go in search of him. Her stomach churns uneasily when she turns back to her patient. She has a job to finish.

            She continues the slow process of weaning the small boy off the sedative dripping into his vein. His vitals remain stable and Finnick snaps off his gloves once he’s finally cleaned all of the cigarette burns. He nods his head, lips pressed in a tight line that tells her tonight is wearing him down just as much as it is wearing her down.

            “I think that’ll do for tonight,” Finnick sighs, shoulders slumped slightly. It’s a far cry from the easygoing smile he usually wears. “He doesn’t seem to have any unstable internal damage. Once he wakes up, he’s free to go up to the pediatric unit. The other kids are already up there by now, so I’m going to head that way.”

            Katniss nods her understanding before Finnick slips silently between the curtains. There’s not much to do aside from monitor the boy’s vital signs, and the machine at the bedside makes it relatively simple. A sudden wave of exhaustion overwhelms her, and she settles onto the stool Finnick used while he cleaned the boy’s wounds.

            She finally takes a moment to look at the thin chart where she’s been writing out vitals on the spreadsheet. The X-ray reports reveal several fractures to his skull in varying stages of healing. He has two fractured ribs and a fractured clavicle. While the MRI is stable, there is still a risk that his brain may begin to swell overnight and he will have to be sedated again to minimize the damage to the precious tissue. There are pictures too—so many pictures of bruises and old scars and lacerations.

            His name is Thomas. He’s ten years old.

            Katniss reaches for the boy’s limp hand, squeezing it lightly in hopes that it might make the tears burning in her eyes disappear. What kind of monster does this to a child? She doesn’t know a single thing about Thomas aside from his name, age, and list of injuries, but she knows he could never have done anything to deserve this. His fingers twitch slightly beneath her palm and his eyelashes flutter slowly.

            “Thomas?” she whispers, reaching her free hand to brush the dark locks of dirty hair from his forehead. “My name is Katniss. I’m a nurse. It’s okay. You’re safe.”

            His eyes open, revealing bright green orbs that seem to see right through her. It breaks her heart when she sees the brief flash of fear followed by relief when he sees she’s a stranger and not one of his abusers.

            “Katie?” he questions, his voice hoarse as his gaze flits about the room. “Where’s Katie?”

            Katniss shakes her head, “I’m not sure. Is Katie your sister?”

            “She was crying and Dad got mad,” he replies, trying to sit up on the cart.

            “Lie down,” Katniss orders in her most soothing tone, pressing him back until he relaxes and rests his head against his pillow. “I’ll go find out. You need to rest though.”

            He nods, his eyes already drifting shut again.

            It only takes a few tries before Katniss finds a nurse that knows the whereabouts of all the children involved in the DCFS case.

            “He’s the last one left down here,” she nods towards the trauma bay that Katniss had just come from. “The rest weren’t in such rough shape. They’re all up on the pediatric unit.”

            “Katie? She was one of them, wasn’t she?” Katniss questions, realizing she never asked Finnick if all the children even made it to the hospital.

            “The youngest. Two years old,” the ER nurse affirms before hurrying off towards a new arrival from triage.

            Her stomach twists at this new knowledge, but Katniss returns and informs Thomas that his baby sister is safe. This seems to appease him for now and he relaxes visibly as she releases the brake on the cart and starts the journey to the pediatric unit.

            A nurse in Mickey Mouse scrubs directs her to Room Five when she rolls off the elevator. She’s an elderly, grey-haired woman who has a smile that calms Katniss’s frayed nerves when she introduces herself to Thomas.

            It only takes a few minutes for Katniss to help her transfer the small boy to his bed and she’s dismissed from the room while his new nurse makes him comfortable and does a baseline assessment.

            She spots Finnick on a phone at the nurse’s station and waits while he finishes dictating on a patient. He releases a long breath when he hangs up and rifles a hand through his hair as he leans back in his chair. He looks exhausted.

            “Where’s Peeta?” Katniss questions, causing Finnick to jump slightly in surprise.

            “Damn. I didn’t know you were standing there,” he says with a hollow laugh. “You’re sneaky, Everdeen.”

            She shrugs wordlessly, shuffling her feet and looking around for a mop of blond curls that is mysteriously absent.

            “He went home,” Finnick informs her, after a few moments. “He looked like he was about to drop.”

            “So do you,” she points out. His green eyes are dull, the night clearly having taken its toll on him.

            Finnick shrugs. “I need to give admission orders on two more kids. Once they’re settled in, I’ll see if I can catch a few hours of rest in one of the on call rooms.”

            “Do you need anymore help?” Katniss asks.

            “Go home, Katniss,” he orders, standing slowly before reaching out to pat her shoulder, a thankful smile tugging at his weary lips. “You’ve done more than enough tonight. You must be tired too.”

            She scuffs the toe of her shoe against the white linoleum, trying to stop the blush from coloring her cheeks before she admits, “I don’t really have a way home right now.”

            Finnick frowns. “What do you mean you don’t have a way home?”

            “I came here with Peeta,” she whispers, her voice barely louder than a sigh, but she knows he’s heard her when his eyebrows shoot up to his hairline.

            “You two were together?” he questions, his surprise melting into a cocky smile as he crosses his arms over his chest.

            Her cheeks burn, but she nods, fiddling anxiously with the end of her braid. Peeta trusts Finnick, she knows that much, but she still worries he might not approve, that he might report whatever it is that’s going on between the two of them.

            “Well, I’ll be damned,” he mutters, chuckling quietly as he shakes his head.

            Her heart sinks and Katniss immediately wishes she could take her confession back, that she could pull each word from the air between them, but his eyes glitter with amusement when he looks up at her again.

            “The boy certainly doesn’t waste any time,” Finnick says, pulling a set of keys from the pocket of his pants. “At least he chose a good one.”

            She frowns, staring at the silver ring of metal as though it’s some sort of monster, unsure what Finnick expects her to do with them.

            He shakes his wrist, jingling the key ring for emphasis. “Take them, Katniss. I’m not going anywhere tonight and, truth be told, Peeta can probably use somebody right now.”

            “What do you mean?” she asks, her brow turning into its familiar scowl.

            The man shrugs, pressing the keys into her hand. “You’ll see if you go to him. It’s a black Cadillac parked in the second row of the physicians’ parking lot. I’m on call until tomorrow evening, so don’t worry about getting the car back to me early.” He winks and doesn’t wait for her to reply before heading down the hall to check on one of the children.

            Katniss stands in the center of the deserted nurses’ station, unsure of what exactly just happened. She looks down at the silver keys in her hand and frowns. Something tells her that she’ll have more questions to answer when she returns the car to Finnick, but right now her mind just keeps replaying the one moment that is still ringing sharply in her mind.

            _Peeta can probably use somebody right now._

             The simple sentence causes an inexplicable fear to tug at her belly. Maybe it was the flash of sadness that she saw in Finnick’s eyes. Perhaps it’s because Peeta left her stranded at the hospital without saying goodbye. All she knows is that there is only one place that she wants to be right now, and it’s a few miles away in an apartment far fancier than her own home.

           

…

 

            Katniss knocks softly at the door, hoping that Peeta hasn’t gone to bed yet and she isn’t waking him. There’s no answer, but she hears a quiet shuffling inside the apartment.

            “Peeta?” she whispers quietly as she tries the door and finds it unlocked. The front room is empty. “Peeta?” she tries again, noting that the door to his bedroom is slightly ajar, a faint beam of light pouring from the crack.

            She crosses the room and her hand immediately moves to push the door open. It’s against her better judgment. It’s prying. Seneca would scream at her when she did things like this. He hated when she forced herself on him when he clearly wanted to keep her away.

            The sight awaiting her when the door swings open is enough to break her heart, though. Peeta paces across the room, his hands tangled in his gold curls, tugging furiously as though trying to extract some awful thought. His shoulders are tense, the muscles rigid beneath the soft fabric of his sweater.

            “Peeta?” she whispers.

            He finally hears her and his movements freeze. His eyes are wild with fear when they meet hers. He swallows thickly, his throat bobbing visibly. His hands drop to his sides, shaking as he tightens them into fists.

            Katniss crosses the room silently, reaching a hand to cup his cheek when she’s near enough. He releases a shuddering breath and turns his face into her palm. His eyes close tightly as though trying to block something out. She’s close enough now to see that his eyes are red-rimmed and puffy behind the dark frames of his glasses.

            His bottom lip trembles against her palm a moment before his arms wrap themselves around her, pulling her impossibly close to him. He’s so tense, every fiber of his being pulled taut with the fear she saw in his eyes only moments ago.

            He takes several unsteady steps backwards until the backs of his legs hit the bed and he sits, tugging her into his lap and refusing to release her from his arms. He rests his head against her chest, his blond curls tickling her lips when she presses her lips to the crown of his head.

            “Tell me what to do,” she begs, brushing her fingers along his back, pressing soothing circles into his shoulders. “Tell me how to help you.”

            “Don’t leave,” he breathes, his voice hitching on the last word. The sound of it makes her stomach twist. She’s so used to him being the strong one. She’s not sure how to be strong for him. She wishes she could take this pain away, but this is a pain that morphine can’t heal, so she holds him closer, humming softly against the crown of his head and hoping that the demons in his mind might leave soon.

            Katniss doesn’t know how much time passes before Peeta lies back, taking her with him and settling her beside him. He doesn’t speak at first, letting his forehead fall forward until it meets gently with hers. Their lips are close, his breath fans over her cheek when he sighs.

            Finally, he opens his fragile, blue eyes and meets her steady grey gaze. He’s still dressed in the same pair of slacks and soft orange sweater he wore to dinner tonight. She raises a hand and slips her fingers beneath the collar of the sweater, the pads of her thumb and forefinger brushing over the slightly puckered skin where she can still vividly picture the small, circular scars from the other night.

            “Someone hurt you,” she murmurs. It isn’t a question. There’s no doubt in her mind that her words are true. She can’t imagine anyone reacting the way Peeta has to tonight if he hadn’t gone through a similar situation himself.

            His eyes close tightly, but he nods, his own trembling hand reaching up to cover hers. She nestles closer to him, letting her legs intertwine with his and pressing a kiss to his cheek.

            “Who was it?” she asks and his hand tightens its grip on hers.

            He shakes his head, pressing his lips to hers instead of answering. His kiss is fevered, a desperate attempt at trying to forget. It’s a feeling Katniss is well acquainted with and she doesn’t have the heart to push him away. Tonight he is hurting, and if he wants to seek comfort in this physical act, she won’t stop him.

            His hand grazes the curve of her waist, coming to rest on her hip, his fingers digging gently against the soft skin as his tongue swipes along the seam of her lips. She sighs quietly, her lips parting easily to allow him access. She lets her fingers caress the tense lines of muscles as they ascend his neck, finding their way to tangle in his hair.

            Peeta moans, a deep, throaty sound that sends heat pooling low in her belly while he shifts and repositions himself above her. She rolls onto her back without argument, her knees bowing outward to allow his hips to rest between her thighs. She fleetingly wonders if he can feel the heat that seems to be smoldering through her veins, but if he does, he doesn’t seem to mind as he presses himself closer to her.

            His hands tug impatiently at the hem of her shirt, and she shifts slightly so he can yank it over her head in one swift movement. His hands don’t hesitate before finding the clasps of her bra, releasing them easily and allowing the rose-colored garment to fall somewhere over the edge of the bed.

            It’s all so fast. Her mind is drugged by Peeta’s touch and she hardly has time to process what is happening before he sheds his own shirt and his lips find hers once more. The light dusting of hair across his chest scratches pleasantly against her skin, a whimper slipping from her throat when he shifts just so, grazing her nipples and sending a wave of heat rushing to pool between her thighs.

            His lips suckle at her pulse point. Her hips roll slowly against his, seeking friction that might aid in releasing the fire that seems to be building inside of her. A growl echoes from deep inside his chest when Katniss’s hips lift just enough to brush against the growing bulge in his slacks. Peeta’s hips rock against hers in return and their shuddering breaths mingle in the short space between them.

            He reaches for the waist of her pants, his eyes a deep blue when they flicker up to meet hers, asking a wordless question that causes her breath to catch in her throat. She can’t answer, so she lifts her hips and her pants slide smoothly over her legs along with her panties.

            Wasting no time, his fingers fumble at his belt, releasing the clasp and making quick work of the button before sliding them over his hips. Katniss can’t stop her eyes from lingering on the narrow angle of his hips as he reaches to remove the boxer briefs that do little to hide his prominent erection.

            It’s easy to make out the small circles of puckered skin in the warm light of his bedroom, and she reaches forward again to touch one near his clavicle. Katniss can’t stop the visions of a tiny, blond-haired boy screaming as a cigarette is pressed into the smooth skin of his chest, the way his face crumples in pain, the fat tears that roll down rounded cheeks.

            “Peeta,” she whispers, the word choked as she finally lifts her gaze to look this beautiful man in the eyes. “Who did this to you?”

            She imagines any number of scenarios in a fraction of a minute, each one more horrid than the next. The thought that anyone could hurt him—hurt this man who is so gentle and kind, who has made it his living to take care of others—is unthinkable.

            “I – I,” his voice cracks unsteadily and he swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing quickly as he does. She presses a hand to his cheek and he blinks, shaking his head as though he’s changed his mind. “I need you,” he whispers, the desperation in his words evident as his hand caresses gently between her thighs, fingers dipping between her folds.

            She mewls, trying to fight the way her hips writhe against his touch. It’s as though he knows every nuance of her body. He touches her just the way she desires most, anticipating her wants before they’ve even fully formed in her mind.

            It doesn’t escape her that he’s doing this to flee the demons haunting him tonight, but she doesn’t have the heart to stop him. She can’t turn him away tonight after everything he’s seen and the burden of his dark history. Katniss still wants answers, but there will be time for that tomorrow, once the light of day has chased away the nightmares haunting the man in her arms. Tonight, she won’t fight him.

            “Katniss,” he hums quietly, his lips brushing across the valley between her breasts, latching around a nipple as they reach it, his tongue laving over the sensitive skin. She is writhing beneath him in minutes, and his lips give a wet pop as he releases her dusky bud.

            “Peeta,” she pleads desperately, her body on fire with a hunger for him that consumes her. “Let me touch you.”

            He leans back, his eyes searching hers as her hands smooth over his pale skin, her nails scratching lightly through the path of fine, dark-blond hairs that trail down his waist. His breath hitches as she wraps her hand around the hard girth of his cock. She releases him after a moment, his eyes fluttering open in confusion as she reaches between her thighs, gathering some of the moisture there before taking him in her hand again.

            “Christ,” he swears breathlessly, releasing a heavy groan as he collapses forward, resting his weight on his elbows as she pumps her hand over his length, hoping she’s doing a decent job of it. Judging by the way he begins to tremble above her, she guesses she must not be screwing everything up completely.

            “Fuck.” She tightens her grip slightly and he moans, burying his face against her neck for a moment before quickly pulling away, his cock slipping from her hand. “Katniss, stop. Stop.”

            Her cheeks flush heatedly, and she ducks her gaze to stare at her shaking, empty hand. “Sorry–I–sorry, Peeta,” she stutters quickly, wiping her palm against her bare thigh and trying to cover herself with the other.

            He snorts, a breathless laugh passing his lips. “Sorry,” he repeats and she burns with embarrassment at the humor in his voice. One of his hands finds hers, pulling it away from where it is trying to cover her most intimate body parts. “Katniss, don’t be sorry.” His lips graze her cheek as he pulls her to his chest. “I wasn’t going to last much longer if you kept that up.”

            He leans back just enough to look into her eyes. She wishes she could look away, but the striking blue rings hold her gaze steady. “You have no idea what you do to me,” he whispers hoarsely.

            She worries her bottom lip between her teeth for a moment until Peeta presses a gentle kiss to the corner of her mouth. She smiles shyly, wrapping her legs around his hips and pulling him back to her.

            His lips trail a heated path of kisses along her jaw, down her neck, across her clavicle. Her hands learn him, mapping every inch of him that she can reach, and still he isn’t close enough. He’s hurting, and Katniss wants nothing more than to make it go away.

            “I should-I need to get something,” he pants, his lips parting from her skin only long enough to gasp out the sentence.

            Katniss frowns, unable to understand what he means as her fingers trail along the sinewy muscle of his biceps. “What are you­—“

            “A condom,” he clarifies, his palms kneading her breasts slowly. Her body arches into his touch.

            “It’s okay, Peeta.”

            She doesn’t allow him time to protest. It’s her who reaches between them and guides him to her entrance. She’s the one to lift her hips, allowing his cock to part her folds and slide inside of her.

            “Katniss,” Peeta whispers like a chant, a prayer. She doesn’t think her name has ever sounded more beautiful. He leans into her, slowly burying himself inside her as he suckles her skin reverently.

            It’s been a long while since she’s been with anyone, and she represses the grimace at the initial tightness once he’s fully sheathed inside of her. His forehead rests against her breastbone as he takes several slow, shuddering breaths. Katniss is sure he can hear the rapid thundering of her heart in her chest, but he doesn’t remark on it if he does.

            He pulls out, moving slowly as he pushes back into her with a low growl.  Her hands find their way to his lower back, reveling in the feel of his muscles as he continues pump into her. She mewls, rolling her hips to meet with his as her body adjusts to his girth and tendrils of pleasure unfold lazily in her core.

            “You’re beautiful,” Peeta says in a hushed voice, peppering kisses over her skin. “Fuck.” His hips snap, as though of their own accord, and he releases a ragged breath. She moans, reaching a hand up to cup his neck and pull his lips back to hers. She dips her tongue past his lips, her nerves burning as she brushes his palette, eliciting a deep groan.

            When their lips separate, Peeta reaches a hand behind her knee, lifting it up so her thigh lays flat against her torso. Her back arches off the bed as he continues to drive into her, his pace quickening as his cock reaches a new place inside of her that leaves her hands clawing against the covers with each thrust.

            “Oh my god,” she mutters, reaching a hand out and placing her palm over his chest right over his fourth and fifth ribs where his heart lies.

            He gives her a quirk of a smile before pulling out. She whines in protest but before she can tell him not to stop, he turns her onto her side and spoons her to his chest. Lifting her leg again, he flexes his hips in one smooth movement and is once again inside her, this time hitting a spot that makes her see stars with each thrust.

            “Oh,” she groans, throwing her head back against his chest. Peeta takes this as an invitation to nibble on her ear before dipping lower to suckle at the tender skin of her neck.

            He slides a hand around her hips, his fingers finding the swollen bundle of nerves between her thighs easily. She cries out, writhing against him as though possessed when he presses quick, firm circles in time with the rhythm his hips have created. Her hands reach back, delving into his sweat-dampened curls, grasping desperately at the man who has turned her blood to liquid fire.

            “Let go,” he murmurs against her ear, his voice rough in a way she’s never heard before. “Katniss, let go. I won’t last much longer. I want to hear you come.”

            Her belly tightens at his words, and he thrusts into her with such vigor that suddenly she’s at the precipice of something infinitely terrifying and enticing. He leans forward, his teeth pressing into her shoulder as his hips snap into her. Once. Twice. And she’s flying, her body arching back against his as she cries out incoherently save for one word, “Peeta!” Her muscles contract with a mind of their own as she trembles against him, and he continues to pump into her while she rides out the last waves of her orgasm.

            “Fuck.” He pulls out as he mutters the curse. She’s never heard him swear so much in the time since she’s met him, but the word is somehow erotic when it falls from his tongue. His breaths are heavy and ragged as his cock pulses between her thighs, and a warm spurt of semen hits her skin. He buries his face in the crook of her neck with a loud groan that makes her shiver though her muscles are still exhausted in her boneless bliss.

            It’s several minutes before either of them recovers, but Katniss doesn’t mind the way Peeta keeps his arm wrapped around her waist, or the feel of his chest pressed firmly against her back.

            She whimpers and scoots back in the bed when Peeta starts to move, hoping he might delay their separation a few more minutes, but he stands anyway, pulling off his glasses before ruffling his hair lazily and grabbing his underwear from the floor. He places his glasses on the table near the door as he walks into the bathroom down the hallway.

            The door shuts with a quiet click that causes the sudden silence to sting like a slap to her face. Her stomach rolls dangerously, and she swallows thickly against the bile that rises in her throat. What did she do? She’s been here before. How often had Seneca left her alone in a cold bed after sex? She sits up, covering her breasts with one arm, though there is no one around to see her as she gathers her clothes from where Peeta tossed them earlier.

            There’s a towel hanging over the back of his desk chair and she uses the corner of it to clean herself off, wiping with more force than necessary at the sticky fluid still on her thigh. She doesn’t waste time with her underwear as she slips back into her sweater and pants. All Katniss cares about right now is getting out of here before Peeta can tell her to get out, before he can thank her for a fun night and guide her out the front door like Seneca did so many times.

            Her cheeks burn with humiliation as she silently treads past the bathroom. She’s just grabbing her shoes from beside the front door when a beam of light falls across her sex-mussed hair. She steels herself for what comes next, her hand already reaching for the doorknob when Peeta steps into the front room with a worried frown.

            “What are you doing?” he questions, his voice almost childlike in tone. There’s a vulnerability in his gaze that catches her off guard. His eyes widen as they take in the scene before them, focusing on her outstretched hand just as it meets with the cool metal of the doorknob.

            “You’re leaving,” he answers his own question.

            Tears burn in her eyes as she waits for him to smile, to thank her for saving him the trouble of kicking her out of his bed, but the words don’t come. Instead he crosses the room, reaching a hand towards her and gazing at her imploringly. She stares dumbly at his hand, at the fingers that gave her so much pleasure only moments ago.

            “Don’t go,” he pleads hoarsely. “I–I don’t want you to go, Katniss.”

            A tear slips from her eye, and she ducks her face, hastily brushing her hand across her cheek. She’s so confused. When she looks up at him, he’s still watching her cautiously, like she might dart out from under his grasp at any moment.

            “You left. You didn’t say anything,” she says. “I just—I thought you wanted me to leave.”

            Peeta shakes his head slowly, reaching his hand a few inches further. “I never wanted you to leave. I was just cleaning up.”

            She swallows thickly and hesitantly places her hand in his. “I’m terrible at this,” she admits in a whisper.

            His fingers close around hers and he pulls her to his bare chest, cradling her head tenderly against his shoulder. “Apparently, so am I. Come back to bed with me?”

            She nods against him, her heart fluttering contentedly now that she is in his arms again. His arms circle her waist and lift her easily. She lets out a shocked squeak, allowing her legs to wrap around his hips when he begins walking back to the bedroom.

            He lowers her gently to the floor, and when their gazes meet, her heart skips a beat. His hands slowly remove her clothes again. This time there is no rush, no desperation, as his fingers brush softly along her skin.

            They slip under the covers together, and she nestles her naked body against him, shivering slightly at the skin-to-skin contact. His hand draws lazy patterns against the dip in her lower back, and he wears a content smile when he glances down at her again.

            “Better?” he questions playfully, leaning forward to press a kiss to her forehead.

            “Yes. But do you feel better?” she counters, her grey eyes serious as she gazes up at him. They both know what she means. It would be impossible to forget what brought her here tonight.

            His smile falters and his hand freezes for a moment before resuming its movements when he nods, a tense movement that she might have missed if she weren’t watching him so intently.

            “Yes,” he whispers. “You made me forget, even if it was only for a little while.”

            “Forget what, Peeta?” she questions, reaching a hand up to caress his jaw. She can see the pain in his eyes, can feel it in the way his jaw tightens beneath her touch. “Who gave you these scars?”

            He releases a slow breath, his nostrils flaring slightly as he closes his eyes. “My mom.”

            It’s a confession so horrible, so unexpected, that Katniss can’t stop herself from gasping. How anyone could hurt this gentle man, then just a golden-haired boy, she can never understand. But to think that it was his own mother—the woman who gave him life—who hurt him is unthinkable.

            “Are—” her voice breaks and she swallows against the dryness that seems to have taken over her mouth, “Are they cigarette burns?” she asks, fingering one of the puckered circles of skin, remembering the red, angry marks on the boy earlier tonight.

            “Yes,” he breathes, screwing his eyes more tightly shut.

            “Oh, Peeta,” she whispers. The tears pooling in her eyes might spill over at any moment, and she blinks quickly in hopes that it will keep them at bay.

            “She was sick,” he explains, his voice quiet and hesitant, like he fears the woman might walk into the room at any minute. “I was too young to understand why she did it. I never meant to set her off…”

            Katniss swallows against the lump suddenly forming in her throat, unsure of what she could possibly say to make this better, to make the pain go away. She has a feeling there’s nothing that could ever truly accomplish it.

            “She was so angry,” he says in a harsh whisper, a bitter frown creasing his face. “She blamed me.”

            She waits for him to continue, to explain what he means. When he doesn’t she whispers, “Blamed you for what, Peeta?”

            His blue eyes open, unfathomable pain swirling in their depths when he answers, “For being alive.”

            Something breaks inside of her and tears slip down her cheeks as she leans forward to press her lips to his. She can feel him trembling, and she wraps her arms around him more tightly, nestling his head against her chest. She hums softly into his curls, partly out of habit. She would always sing for Prim when the younger girl was upset while they were growing up, and she hopes that it will somehow help soothe the hurt raging inside Peeta right now.

            “She wanted a daughter,” he mutters after a while. “I was the big disappointment. From the moment I was born, I was always a letdown for my mother.

            “They tried to have another baby after me. My dad promised they would keep trying until she had a girl, but she couldn’t get pregnant again.” His voice is fragile, sounding more like a child than a grown man. “I was three the first time she hit me.”

            “Oh, Peeta,” Katniss whispers, threading her fingers through his curls, pressing her lips to the soft pile of gold.

            “She took it out on my brothers sometimes too, but I was always her main target. It was my fault that her dreams were never realized.” He lifts his head so their gazes can meet, and she finds his eyes swimming with tears much like her own. He shrugs. “I tried to make her proud. I never have though.” The words hold a subtle bitterness that bites at her heart. He shudders before he presses a kiss to her mouth.

            “I’m proud of you,” she whispers when they break apart, his lips still close enough that her brush them when she speaks. “You are smart and kind and so brave, Peeta. You do more good than your mother ever could have asked for. She’s blind if she can’t see that.”

            Silence settles between them for a long while, broken only by Peeta’s shaky breaths. His thumbs brush gently along her waist while he stares up at her with something akin to awe.

            “Will you stay here tonight?” he questions, his words unsteady and hesitant as though he thinks Katniss would ever be able to deny him anything, especially such a simple request.

            “Of course,” she smiles softly, nestling herself closer to him, trying to eliminate any space left between them. His strong arms circle around her, and he releases a soft sigh of contentment when he buries his face against her hair.

            There’s no place in the world she’d rather be tonight.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, thank you for reading. Feel free to let me know your thoughts on the chapter! I love to hear from all of you! If you are so inclined, you may also follow me on tumblr at .com. Occasionally I post little snippets of what I'm working on and let you know how the writing is going.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: Hello everyone! Yes I am still alive and yes I do still plan to complete this story along with my other WIPs even if it ends up being at a glacial pace. Thank you to everyone who has commented and asked about this story. You have no idea what your interest and support mean to me. So without further delay – enjoy chapter nine!

_ Present _

            The sky is still dark outside when the sound of running water wakes Katniss the next morning. It takes her a moment to remember where she is, but when her eyes land on a pair of familiar slacks left in a rumpled heap on the floor beside the bed, she recalls.

            Something inside her sighs his name softly. Her skin burns as she remembers his touch from only hours ago. A lazy shiver runs up her spine.

            _Peeta._

            A dull squeak sounds from behind the door to her right followed by the muffled sounds of cabinets being opened and shut. She snuggles deeper under the warmth of the covers as memories from last night wash over her. The look on his face when he asked her to stay. The way he trembled beneath her when she touched his scars.

            The sound of the doorknob turning brings her back to the present as Peeta steps into view, the ends of his hair still damp and curling slightly against his neck as he runs a towel over the unruly locks. A pair of black boxer briefs are the only clothes he wears and they don’t leave much to the imagination. He grins shyly when his blue eyes meet hers.

            “Good morning,” he greets softly, tossing the towel into a basket in the corner of the room before slipping back into bed beside her. “Did I wake you?”

            Katniss shakes her head, not trusting her voice when he’s so close, smelling of fresh soap and that musky scent that seems to be permanently embedded in his skin.

            He worries his bottom lip lightly with his teeth, his eyes shining with contentment. “I’m glad you stayed.”

            “Me too,” she chokes out as his hands find their way around her waist. His lips meet with hers in a gentle kiss but she pulls away sharply when she tastes the clean spearmint flavor of his tongue.

            He shoots her a worried look but laughs when he notices the way she cringes before covering her mouth with a small, olive-toned hand. Katniss is out of the bed and across the room before Peeta has a moment to protest and she hears him chuckle quietly from the other side of the bathroom door once she has raided his cabinets and found a tube of toothpaste.

            “You do what you need to, Katniss,” he says. “Shower if you want. You’re free to use whatever you can find. I’m going to go make breakfast.”

            She stares at the door for a long moment, wondering how on earth she’s managed to find herself here, in a doctor’s bathroom with toothpaste slathered on her right index finger. A few months ago she would have laughed at anyone who suggested she might one day be in this situation.

            With a shake of her head, she gets to work at making herself presentable. She showers quickly, only pausing twice to inhale the familiar scent of Peeta’s body wash before lathering it over her skin. By the time she opens the door to the bathroom, the scent of bacon fills the air. She pulls on the pair of boxer shorts and overlarge t-shirt that Peeta left sitting neatly on the bed for her.

            She is just tying off the end of her braid when she wanders into the kitchen and hears Peeta singing along softly to some top ten hit playing on the radio. She bites her bottom lip to keep from laughing but it does nothing to conceal her smile when he hits a note that is particularly off key. The floor creeks beneath her step when she walks further into the kitchen, gaining Peeta’s attention as he spins around, spatula in hand. His cheeks burn pink while his eyes rove over her exposed skin.

            “You should probably keep your day job, Dr. Mellark,” she teases lightly as she leans a hip against the counter.

            His cheeks turn redder if it’s even possible as he tugs a hand through his messy mop of curls. “I’m tone deaf. I inherited it from my father. In fact, I don’t think there’s a Mellark that can carry a tune. It’s unfortunate since I love music and I would have loved to be in musicals when I was growing up.” His blush spreads down his neck. He’s rambling and they both realize it. She can’t help but find his nervous energy endearing though. “So… I hope you like blueberry pancakes.”

            Katniss laughs quietly despite her best efforts not to. She tries to ignore the way her stomach swoops a little at his shy smile. She pushes aside the urge to kiss his jaw where his blush is just beginning to recede.

            “I can’t remember the last time I had blueberry pancakes,” Katniss says as he flips the round cakes onto plates next to the stove. “They smell amazing.”

            “And I figured I couldn’t go wrong with bacon,” Peeta explains as he pulls the sizzling strips from their pan and plates them as well.

            “Of course not,” she agrees as he hands her a plate and they settle down on the stools at the breakfast bar.

            Katniss groans when the first bite of fluffy, sweet pancake meets her tongue. Peeta releases a chuckle from deep in his throat as Katniss begins to shamelessly shovel the food into her mouth, barely giving herself time to breathe. She didn’t realize how hungry she was until now, but she finds herself ravenous.

            When she scrapes the last bits of blueberry from her plate, she glances up into a set of bright blue eyes, crinkled at the edges by the cheeky grin he’s wearing. “I’m sorry,” she apologizes, wiping her lips with a napkin, hoping he doesn’t notice the blush spreading over her cheeks. “That was probably disgusting. I was just so hungry.”

            “No,” Peeta laughs, clearing their plates and placing them in the dishwasher before turning back to face her. “It’s refreshing. Everything about you is different, Katniss. I’m never quite sure what to expect next.”

            “And that’s good?” She frowns in question. Her quirks always annoyed Seneca more than anything else.

            Peeta smiles in that sweet, gentle way that she’s come to be familiar with, the one that makes her insides warm and the butterflies in her stomach flutter excitedly. He rounds the counter and settles himself between her knees as he wraps his arms around her waist.

            “It’s very good,” he assures her in a low murmur before placing a brief kiss to her lips.

            “Oh,” she whispers dumbly, unable to think of any better response while her heart is pounding so frantically against her ribs. She wants nothing more than to weave her fingers through his curls and kiss him for the rest of the morning. And that simple thought scares her more than she ever could have expected.

            His lips brush against hers again but he pulls away too soon, nipping gently at her bottom lip before straightening up and brushing a stray bit of hair behind her ear.

            “We should talk about last night,” he says, his words like a bomb dropped in the middle of some idyllic meadow. Katniss blinks several times, trying to catch up with his sudden change in conversation.

            “What is there to talk about?” She frowns, a deep furrow forming between her brows as she looks up at him. Her hands wring against one another as she wonders whether he’s changed his mind, if he regrets what they’ve done.

            “Well, a lot actually.” He shrugs, reaching to cover her hands with one of his and giving them a gentle squeeze. “Relax, Katniss.”

            She looks down at their hands, his fair skin a stark contrast against her darker hands as though mocking how mismatched they are for one another.

            “If you changed your mind – if you don’t want to do this anymore - just say so, Peeta. I promise I can still be professional. You don’t have to –“

            “Katniss –“

            “- worry about me going around saying anything. I won’t say anything to –“

            “Katniss!” Peeta shouts, silencing her worried rambling. Her wide, silver eyes meet his. “I don’t want to take back any of it,” he explains gently, his thumb brushing over her knuckles in a soothing motion.

            “You don’t?” she questions, the surprise in her tone impossible to miss.

            “No.” He says simply. The lead fist around Katniss’s chest loosens a bit. His steady gaze meets hers and it acts like a balm to her anxiety.

            “I just think we should have a serious talk about our lack of protection. That’s not at all like me. I wasn’t thinking clearly last night. I want you to know that I’m going to go get tested today and as soon as I have the results, I’ll share them with you.”

            She stares up at him in shock. This is definitely not a turn she expected this conversation to take. She’s speechless, but he doesn’t seem to notice as he continues speaking.

            “I don’t sleep around and I never behave as recklessly as I did last night,” he assures her. “I promise I’m clean but I was upset and you were there and I needed to feel you.” In a whisper that she can barely make out, he adds, “I needed to remember that I was safe.”

            Her hands turn over and her fingers lace with his like interlocking pieces to a puzzle. She’s never had a conversation like this before. Seneca always dictated the rules of their relationship so she’s been on the shot ever since she first started having sex with him. He only used condoms long enough for the contraceptive to become effective and he complained the entire time about how it made everything feel duller. He never suggested they get tested and Katniss was far too naïve to even contemplate broaching the topic.

            She knew that she wasn’t his first, but at the time she always assumed he’d taken precautions with the others before her. She assumed that what they had was special and that’s why he was so against using condoms with her. It was months after they broke up before she realized what an idiot she’d been.

            “I’m on the shot!” Katniss blurts out, her mind too shocked to come up with any better response. She cringes at the complete lack of tact she’s demonstrating this morning. She’s so shocked by this entire conversation and there are so many thoughts bombarding her mind that she can barely think straight.

            Peeta nods slowly. “Okay. Good.” He gives her a smile. “That’s one less thing to worry about I guess.”

            “Uh,” she squirms beneath his gaze. “Yeah.”

            “I’ll get tested and show you the results when I get them,” he reiterates, his thumb brushing along her wrist. Katniss nods numbly.

            “Will you?” he questions quietly, pulling her attention away from the unexpectedness of the conversation and back to the stunning man in front of her.

            “Huh?” She blinks up at him in confusion again. He must think she’s an idiot. There’s no possible way that he couldn’t with the way this discussion is going.

            “Will you get tested too?” he asks, his words slow and deliberate as he watches her cautiously. “Then we could both be confident that we’re clean.”

            Her cheeks burn beneath his gaze and she tugs her hands from his grasp.

            “I don’t sleep around either, Peeta. It’s been months since I was with anyone,” she whispers.

            “I’m not trying to say that you do,” he reasons easily, reaching for her hands once more before she can walk away. “I just think it would be good for us both to be checked. That way we both know. It’s a clean slate. Neither one of us has to worry about it then.”

            She shrugs, but her muscles begin to relax as his thumb traces its gentle pattern along her wrist again. “Okay.”

            His smile is breathtaking when he hears her reply and he tugs her into his arms, holding her against his chest as he dips his head to whisper in a low growl, “Then we’ll be able to continue what we started. I can’t pretend that I didn’t enjoy last night.”

            A shiver runs through her spine and she bites her lip as a smile spreads across her face. She likes the sound of that.

           

…

 

Past: 18-years-old

 

            “I love you,” Katniss whispers, trying to take in every bit of this moment. She smiles up at the dark-haired man beside her, memorizing the way his eyes glitter in the late afternoon light.

            “You too,” he replies with a smile, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her back to his chest so she loses sight of his face. She doesn’t mind though, instead watching the curtain as it billows lazily in the late summer breeze.

            She never expected her first time to feel like this. It hurt at first, and then it turned into something that whispered of pleasure. Seneca hadn’t spoken much during the act. In fact, she blushes as she remembers the irritated look he gave her when she cried out his name when his touch sent a spear of pleasure rocketing through her. She wonders if maybe people don’t normally do that. She wonders if she was too loud. She’s thankful that he didn’t laugh at her during their first time together. She’ll learn; she’s determined to make him happy.

            “I need to get ready,” Seneca says, interrupting her thoughts as he slides out of bed.

            Katniss frowns, wishing he would lie back down and spend a few more minutes tangled together with her. The sweat has barely begun to dry from her skin. She sits up. “Where are we going?”

            He shakes his head as he moves towards the bathroom off his bedroom. “I told you earlier, babe.”

            She is almost certain he never said anything about having plans for this evening. In fact, Seneca barely spoke at all before pulling her to his lips when she showed up at his apartment.

            “I have a night out planned with the guys,” he shouts from the bathroom as the sound of the tap running reaches her ears.

            This causes her frown to deepen. “So you mean you’re not staying here tonight? I thought we would have dinner—“

            “Baby, I can’t.” He slips back into the room, grabbing a pair of boxers from his dresser as he passes. He bends over, tugging the cotton garment over his toned legs. “I would spend more time with you, but I promised the boys and you know how they get when I cancel.”

            He fixes her with a pitying look before turning to his closet and browsing his shirts. Katniss tugs the sheet over her chest, concealing her nakedness though no one is watching her. Her stomach starts to roll in a way that makes her sick. She wishes Seneca would just look at her, reassure her somehow that this afternoon wasn’t one huge mistake.

            He glances over his shoulder with an easy smile and her nerves relax a bit. “Do you mind letting yourself out?” he questions before turning back to his closet. “I’m already running late and I still need to shower and get dressed.”

            Katniss bites her bottom lip to keep it from quivering as she nods and slips out from under the covers. His words sting like a rubber band snapped against her heart. She quickly gathers her clothes, pulling them on haphazardly. She doesn’t give a damn what she looks like right now.

            She walks quickly out of the bedroom once she’s fully clothed and is nearly through the front door when an arm wraps around her waist followed by a pair of lips pressed firmly against the curve of her neck. His thumb rubs gently against her stomach as he pulls her back against his chest.

            “Thank you,” he murmurs, his voice soft and deep, melting away whatever anger or irritation she’d felt only a moment ago. “Today was great, Katniss. Next time we’ll have dinner afterwards, okay?”

            She turns and his flint-colored eyes search hers uncertainly. “Okay.” Katniss nods. She doesn’t want him to leave her over something as stupid as this evening.

            He gives her a cheeky grin, patting her hip before reaching for the door and opening it for her. “Okay. Thanks again, babe.”

            “Sure,” she replies with a weak smile. “I lo—“

            The door shuts behind her before she can finish the thought. She tries to deny the sting that throbs in her chest as she makes her way down the street. It’s a long walk home. She thought Seneca would drive her back to her house this evening.

 

…

 

_ Present _

 

            “What’s up with you?” Johanna demands, distracting Katniss from the medication she is drawing up into a syringe.

            Katniss lifts an eyebrow and glances over at the sharp gaze of the brunette beside her. “What do you mean?”

            “You’ve been quiet all day,” she states, crossing her arms over her ample chest and narrowing her eyes. “But not in that ‘my-mom-isn’t-doing-well’ way. It’s like your head is in some other world right now.”

            “I don’t know,” Katniss shrugs, biting her bottom lip to help conceal the smile that has been trying to plant itself firmly on her face all day. If there’s one thing she knows it’s that that smile would be a dead giveaway to an observer as astute as Johanna. Katniss Everdeen is not the type of nurse that smiles through the whole shift, even if it feels like her body is trying to make her do just that. “I’m just tired I guess.”

            “Bullshit.” Johanna counters almost before the excuse leaves her lips. “I know tired Katniss and this isn’t her. You don’t even have circles under your eyes. In fact, you look downright… oh shit.”

            “What?” Katniss demands, snapping the safety over the needle of the syringe she’s holding.

            “You bumped uglies with the doctor!”

            Something inside of Katniss bristles at the sound of shock in Johanna’s voice but it’s quickly dominated by the happy quickening of her heart inside her chest when she thinks of Peeta. Her cheeks flush as she ducks her gaze from her friend’s and goes about collecting the rest of the supplies she needs for her patient.

            “I can’t believe it. Damn, Everdeen, I didn’t think you had it in you!”

            “You know everything you’re saying could be taken offensively, Johanna,” Katniss points out flatly. There’s no point in trying to deny something happened between herself and Peeta. Johanna is a freaking bloodhound about that sort of thing.

            “Well, I don’t mean you don’t have a banging body. But damn!” Johanna steps back to take a better look at Katniss. “Even I haven’t fucked a doctor that I work with. One I don’t work with, maybe… So was he good? He looks like he’d leave your legs weak after he’s done with you.”

            “I’m not talking about this here,” Katniss shoots over her shoulder as she ducks out of the med room.

            “Well if it isn’t my favorite, most lovely nurse.” Finnick’s familiar voice greets her before the door to the med room has a chance to close behind her. She can hear Johanna cackling from behind the heavy wood when it finally swings shut.

            “What are you doing up here, Dr. Odair?” Katniss asks curtly, in no mood to be made fun of by another coworker. She has every suspicion that he already knows what happened last night between her and Peeta. She still can’t forget the smug look that he gave her this morning when she returned his car keys. She has to wonder if she’s an open book to everyone around her with the way they can all guess what’s going on in her sex life.

            “I just wanted to thank you for bringing home my baby without a scratch this morning,” he puts extra emphasis on the last word before grinning like a cat with a canary. “I hope things went okay with Peeta.”

            “You told him and not me?!” Johanna shrieks, flying out of the med room, hands on her hips as she makes her way across the nurse’s station to stand uncomfortably close to Katniss. “You can’t even take the time to share the dirty details of your romp with the doctor with your best friend but you share it with another doctor!”

            Now even Finnick’s cheeks are tinted pink as he glances between the two women in front of him.

            “Uh, clearly I said something I shouldn’t,” he says, clearing his throat. “I didn’t mean to imply anything.”

            Katniss cringes. Judging by the surprise in his tone, Finnick didn’t know what happened. He does now though, and it’s sure to make its way back to Peeta who’s going to think she’s some skank that tells everyone in the hospital about the guys she fucks.

            “Oh god,” she groans, letting her face fall into her hands, wishing that the floor would just open up and swallow her whole.

            “Oh,” Johanna says with a nervous laugh, “my bad. I thought you knew, Dr. Odair.”

            “Well, I had my suspicions-“

            “I’m standing right here!” Katniss snaps, her silver eyes blazing with a mixture of frustration and humiliation when she looks up at the two people before her. “Can you not speculate about my sex life right in front of me?”

            Johanna grins, slinging an arm around Katniss’s shoulders. “I for one am proud of you, Katniss.”

            “Oh my god!” Katniss shouts, ducking out from beneath her friend’s embrace and hurrying away from the nurse’s station before her embarrassment kills her. She can already feel the blush crawling from her cheeks to cover her neck and most of her face.

            She’s nearly out of earshot when she hears Johanna speak to Finnick in a gleeful voice, “Okay cough up the twenty bucks. I told you they wouldn’t make it through the month before getting into each other’s pants.”

 

…

 

            “Everdeen.”

            Katniss stands, nearly dropping her purse as she gathers it and her coat to quickly join the tall nurse wearing purple scrubs at the door to the waiting room.

            She left work and immediately drove thirty minutes to a clinic two towns over that performs STD checks. Johanna laughed when she reluctantly admitted where she was going after work. She was floored not so much because Katniss was getting tested – Johanna is all for safety – but because she was driving so far when she could get it done at a clinic five minutes from the hospital.

            Katniss just couldn’t get Johanna to understand that she would rather die than run into anyone she knew, whether personally or professionally. So here she is, exhausted after a long shift, following some perky nurse to a bathroom to pee in a cup.

            She does her business as efficiently as possible, handing the cup to the same perky nurse who labels it and places it in the cooler to be sent to lab before the clinic closes tonight.

            “You can take a seat in the chair over there, Katniss,” the nurse says, indicating an oversized recliner with a table where she can rest her arm as the nurse draws blood for the tests. “Were you exposed to anything in particular that you know of?” she inquires matter-of-factly.

            Even after all this time working as a nurse, she is never entirely comfortable when on the other side of the questions.

            “Uh. No,” she answers softly. “Just taking precautions. My – uh – the guy I’m with wanted us both to be sure.”

            The girl nods, filling out the lab forms quickly. “Smart of him. And are you using protection?”

            Katniss cringes. She’s always been a private person and this line of questioning is enough to kill her with discomfort. “Yeah. I mean, I’m on the shot so we don’t need to worry about that and I’m here. So-“

            “Have you had a conversation about whether you plan for your relationship to be monogamous?”

            She wants to snap at the girl, to tell her to mind her own business and get to work, but she knows that it’s just part of her job so she bites her tongue.

            “Uh, yeah,” she lies, hoping to get this all over faster.

            The nurse gives her a tiny smile before snapping a tourniquet off of the roll and tying it above Katniss’s elbow. She pulls on a set of gloves and prods gently at the crook of her arm, finding a bouncy vein before readying the needle.

            “Okay, just a couple tubes of blood and you’ll be finished,” she says reassuringly. “One big poke,” she warns before inserting the needle smoothly through Katniss’s skin and into the vein.

            The tubes are filled and the tourniquet is off in record time. The nurse hands her a paper that gives information on the tests done and how long before results can be expected. On the way out, a secretary who looks like she couldn’t be older than 18 hands Katniss a bag of assorted condoms.

            “Thanks,” she says awkwardly before shoving her arms into her coat and pushing through the doors. The burst of fresh air helps clear her mind and calm her. It’s done now.

            She checks her phone as she turns on the ignition of her car and sees a message from Peeta.

_Plans tonight?_

            Her fingers tap quietly against the screen in reply.

_I’m about 30 minutes away. I can head to your place when I’m back in town. What did you have in mind?_

            It’s only a handful of seconds before her phone chirps again and she opens the message to a picture of a delicious pan of shrimp and sauce on a stove that looks remarkably like Peeta’s.

_Dinner. I missed you today._

            She smiles as she reads the words, her stomach doing little somersaults inside her belly. She’s hesitant to admit that she missed him too. It seems too fast. Isn’t that what Prim warned about. She falls too quickly and it makes her blind. So she settles for a more neutral reply.

_I’ll be there in 30._

 

…

 

            Katniss is knocking on the familiar ebony door to Peeta’s apartment forty-five minutes later. The traffic getting back across town was horrible so it had taken her longer than expected to arrive and her stomach grumbles angrily in protest.

            “Come on in!” his muffled voice calls from the kitchen.

            She lets herself in and groans at the scent of savory sauce and freshly baked bread. “Whatever it is you’re making, it smells glorious.”

            Peeta smiles broadly, setting a basket of golden rolls on the small table that adorns his apartment before crossing the room to envelop her in his arms. She gives a contented sigh, reveling in the gentle strength of his arms around her.

            “I don’t usually have much time for cooking. Since I’m off this week, I figured I would treat you tonight,” he says, his voice a low rumble in his chest that makes her insides twist pleasantly. She looks up and he takes advantage of the angle, leaning in so his lips meet hers in a gentle kiss. She leans up on her toes, tugging insistently at the front of his shirt, eliciting a growl from deep in Peeta’s chest at the same time her stomach gives another grumble of protest.

            Peeta pulls away with a chuckle, pushing up the glasses that perfectly frame the thin circles of blue against his pupils. He presses his lips one last time against the crown of her head.

            “Let’s get you fed,” he suggests, pulling out the chair nearest to them so she can sit.

            She settles into the chair and Peeta dashes to the kitchen, retrieving two plates piled high with pasta and the same shrimp that were cooking in the picture he sent her earlier.

            “Shrimp scampi with a side of green beans and almonds,” he introduces simply as he settles the plate in front of her. “And the bread is fresh.”

            Katniss swirls her fork in the linguini noodles, making sure to stab a perfectly seared shrimp before shoving the entire mouthful past her lips. The mixture of lemon and herbs are enough to make her taste buds think they’ve died and gone to heaven.

            “If you keep feeding me like this, I’m going to be bigger than a house,” she says, taking a generous bite of a still-steaming roll. Peeta snorts into his plate, swirling his own fork slowly.

            “It would be my honor to feed you until you’re as big as a house, Katniss,” he says, shooting a toothy grin her way.

            “You’re a dork,” she laughs as she kicks at his ankle under the table.

            Her foot makes contact with his shin and his leg quickly sweeps behind hers, effectively pinning her calf between his and the leg of the table.

            “A dork who went to state for wrestling in high school,” he says, waggling his eyebrows. “I wouldn’t start that battle, Katniss.”

            She rolls her eyes. “Please, I could take you. You’ve got the brawns but I’m fast. You’d have to catch me to pin me.”

            Katniss doesn’t miss the glint in his eye as Peeta sets down his fork, politely dabbing his napkin over his lips before placing it down as well. A thrill runs up her spine and she’s out of her chair in a heartbeat, dashing across the living area of his apartment and putting the oversized sofa between them.

            Peeta is right behind her, laughing loudly as his hands come to rest on the back of the couch. “Come on, then. If you think you’re so fast, let’s face off and make it official.”

            “No!” she shouts, taking off towards the bedroom the second he starts to move around the couch towards her.

            The problem with trying to run away in an apartment is that there aren’t many places to hide. She’s cornered before she can even think twice and Peeta’s arms circle her waist from behind, lifting her up into the air even as her legs kick wildly.

            “NO!” she shrieks indignantly as he tosses her onto the bed as though she weighs nothing. She thinks that the battle is over until he crawls onto the mattress, settling over her with a smirk that tells her she’s very wrong.

            “I win,” he states smugly, his fingers tracing circles along her stomach as they inch under her shirt.

            “You cheat!” she counters, crossing her arms over her chest in an effort to look angry.

            “Admit it, Katniss,” he says in a playful, lilting voice, his fingers coming dangerously close to her ribs. “I win.”

            “Never!” she cries and she knows she’s a goner the instant his fingers brush over the tender skin of her ribcage because he’s found her Achilles heel.

            His fingers are merciless once they start tickling her and she squirms to try and evade him but now he really does have her pinned just like he promised. His thigh has found its way between her legs and his hands are relentless as helpless giggles pour from her lips.

            “Peeta!” she begs between laughter and pants as she tries to catch her breath. “Stop it! I’m going to kick you!”

            Peeta cackles like a little boy, the sound causing her heart to jump even more frantically against her chest. But his hands never relent in their assault until she gasps through tears.

            “Okay!” she shrieks. “You win! You win!”

            His hands stop instantly and he falls to rest his weight on his forearms as he hovers above her. Her cheeks are flushed as she gasps for air and she suddenly realizes how close he is and how wonderful he smells and how soft his hair looks in the dim light pouring in from the kitchen.

            Katniss can’t stop her hands from reaching up and delving into the thick curls of gold, tugging gently until his head dips so her lips can find his. She nips impatiently at his full bottom lip and he sighs, opening his mouth to her and allowing her tongue to caress his with a long moan.

            His sounds of pleasure ignite something inside of her. Suddenly her skin is burning to be close to him. She arches up against him but he’s still not close enough even as her hips brush against his growing hardness.

            Peeta’s hand moves to her side again, sliding under her shirt and quickly moving to cover her breast, kneading slowly against the soft skin. She whimpers, bowing into his grip as her lips trail a path along his neck, her tongue peaking out at intervals to taste the sweetness of his skin.

            All too soon, Peeta is pulling his hand away and Katniss whines, the heat between her legs pulsing demandingly for something only Peeta can provide.

            “God help me,” he mutters, running a hand roughly through his curls. “I was going to ask over dinner, but I sincerely hope that you were thirty minutes away tonight because you were getting tested.”

            Katniss nods. “Yeah. I didn’t really want to get it done in town.”

            “Thank god,” he murmurs, letting his forehead fall to rest against hers. “I don’t know how long I can wait before I’m inside of you again, Katniss. Wanting you is enough to kill me.”

            She blushes. The way he talks, its as though she’s something special. His tone almost makes her feel like she’s something to be treasured.

            “I’m sure you’ve got plenty of willing women lined up when I’m not around, Peeta,” she jokes, giving a half-hearted chuckle even though the thought of him with someone else sends a stab of pain through her chest.

            “It wouldn’t matter even if I did,” he says, brushing his fingers gently over the end of her braid resting on the bed beside her. “They aren’t you.”

            Katniss rolls her eyes even as her stomach flips ecstatically. It scares her how much her body responds to him, even just his words.

            “I mean it,” he says, noticing her dismissal of his words. “You have no idea the effect you have over me, Katniss Everdeen.”

            She can’t contain the smile that breaks out over her face. She will never understand how she managed to find this sweet man. He deserves someone so much better than her - someone so much more whole than her. But she would rather die than give him away to some other girl.

            “Yeah well,” she whispers, taking his face between her hands and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “You’re not so bad yourself, Dr. Mellark.”

            His grin is nearly blinding as he stands, pulling her up after him and leading her back to their forgotten dinner.

 

…

           

            Three days later, Katniss’s phone buzzes in the pocket of her scrub top. She sifts through the alcohol wipes and saline flushes for IVs to grab her phone and glances at the screen. She listens to the voicemail from the clinic giving her a bill of clean health and she can’t contain the smile that tugs at her lips.

            Peeta’s results came back yesterday morning.

            She quickly types out a text to him asking if he has plans for this evening. It’s almost embarrassing how her heartbeat picks up and her insides grow warm just thinking about what she hopes to do after work.

            Johanna looks up from her charting and snorts. “Stop texting Dr. Mellark at work, Katniss.” She reprimands playfully. “You get that dopy look on your face and people are going to question your sanity and lock you up on the second floor.”

            “Shut up!” Katniss retorts lamely. She knows Johanna’s right. It’s like she’s got a schoolyard crush.

            “How’s Eli doing today?” Johanna asks about one of Katniss patient’s, graciously taking pity on Katniss and changing the subject. “Jonesing for some heroin yet, or still denying that he does that shit?”

            “He’s miserable in there, but you know he’ll never admit to detoxing,” Katniss replies with a dry laugh. “He only fails the drug tests because the girls giving him blowjobs have been doing drugs.”

            “Bullshit!” Thom shouts from the medication room. The word is muffled by the thick, heavy door between them, but there is no mistaking his exclamation.

            “Well, we all know that, but that’s what he told his doctor yesterday,” Katniss says, biting her cheek so she doesn’t laugh at the look Johanna shoots her.

            “You’ve got to be kidding me! He said that to Dr. Solomon? How did you keep a straight face?”

            “I couldn’t,” Katniss admits. “I had to leave the room.”

            Johanna cackles just as the call light to room 9 starts ringing.

            “Speak of the devil.” Katniss rolls her eyes as she heads down the hallway, the sound of Johanna’s laughter echoing over the sound of the call light.

            It’s not until Katniss steps up outside the door to room 9 that she can hear the shouts from inside. The door is closed, which soundproofs the rooms under normal circumstances, so Katniss knows something serious is going on inside if she can hear it from her spot in the hall.

            She knocks quickly and opens the door without pausing for a response. A water pitcher barely misses her head as she steps inside, splashing water all down the front of her uniform.

            “What’s going on in here, Eli?” she demands, glaring at the short, middle-aged man who is standing next to the window, fists clenched in anger.

            “Tell this bastard to get the fuck out of my room, nurse,” he orders, his words clipped and anxious as his eyes shift from his son to her.

            “Dad, knock it off,” the younger man pleads. He’s been through this too many times to count. He’s the only child out of Eli’s seven offspring who even takes an interest in the man and he’s been trying for years to get his father clean of his drug habits. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re out of your mind right now.”

            The scene tugs at Katniss’s heart. She’s been in the same position as this boy plenty of times with her own mother. Of course, her mother’s issue is that she isn’t compliant with her medications, but it’s the same emotions that underlie both situations.

            “Don’t tell me what to do, boy!” Eli flips the bedside table over and his son jumps out of the way as it crashes to the ground, belongings flying out of the hidden tray beneath it’s surface.

            “Eli!” Katniss shouts in her sternest tone, taking another step into the room. “This is unacceptable. I’ll take your son out of the room, but you need to calm down.”

            The boy looks at her and gives a nod before stepping around her with slumped shoulders as he leaves the room. Eli’s eyes shift between her and the doorway, a clear indication that his paranoia has begun setting in.

            “That fucker didn’t want me to have my fix,” he mutters beneath his breath, but not so quietly that she can’t hear him. “I know he had it. I know he did. He’s taking what’s mine.”

            He begins to pace in the small confines of his room and Katniss realizes his withdrawal is hitting him much harder than it has in his past hospitalizations. She takes another slow step into the room and tries to reason with him.

            “Eli, your son didn’t have any drugs. He’s trying to help you get clean-“

            “BULLSHIT!” he roars, turning around and reaching for the IV pole that isn’t currently being used. He sends the metal hurling across the room with more strength than Katniss could have ever guessed he had and it lands with a bang, shattering the small electronic box that controls the drip rates of drugs.

            “Katniss?” Lavinia asks timidly from the doorway, her eyes wide with worry. “Is everything alright?”

            “Who’s this bitch?” Eli demands, his voice nearly a shriek as he crosses the room.

            Katniss steps into his path with a quick glimpse over her shoulder at the pretty, red-haired nursing assistant. “Have them call a security code, Lavinia,” she says softly, trying to keep her voice as even as possible. “He’s escalating.”

            In the split moment that her attention is diverted, Eli crosses the room and grabs her arm, his fingers digging in painfully. Katniss winces, trying to twist her arm from his grasp but it only causes him to tug her closer to him.

            “Why is a pretty thing like you trying to kill me?” he asks, his words a threatening hiss. His pupils are pinpoints against the warm, brown irises that would normally make his gaze welcoming.

            “Eli,” Katniss says in the most soothing tone she can manage when his fingers continue to dig deeper into her bicep. “You’re in the hospital. You know we aren’t trying to hurt you, but we can’t give you heroin. You’re supposed to be detoxing.”

            “You little bitch!” he spits, his lips curled in a threatening snarl.

            Katniss can just barely hear the voice of the operator calling out the security code to room 609 north. She takes a deep breath, knowing that hopefully this entire confrontation will be over in a few minutes. It typically only takes a show of force, a few men in security uniforms, to snap a patient back to reality and diffuse the situation.

            “Eli, you’re hurting me. Why don’t you take a seat and I’ll get you something to help?” she says, trying to keep her voice as calm as possible, though it’s hard to mistake the tremble of pain infused in each word.

            “I ain’t gonna sit anywhere!” he shouts. She takes advantage of his distraction tries to pull her arm from his iron grasp but it’ only causes him to dig his fingers deeper into the muscle. She’s certain he has to be drawing blood at this point.

            The people for the security response should be arriving any moment. She takes a shaky breath knowing she has to keep him distracted until there’s more help. There’s no getting out of this herself.

            “You tell me where my stash is!” Eli demands, spittle flying from his lips with each word. His eyes rove around the room frantically. “Tell me or I’ll kill you, you bitch.”

            “Eli, I’m your nurse,” Katniss reminds him, her words squeaking slightly as she tries to ignore the pain radiating up her arm. “The police would have your drugs, not me.”

            “Katniss!” Johanna calls out followed by the sound of shoes squeaking down the hallway.

            Eli’s eyes, impossibly, go wider, the pupils almost nonexistent as he yanks her arm towards him, surprising Katniss enough to knock her off balance. She tries to pull herself free as she stumbles, but falls into his chest.

            The door slams open and the room is a flurry of movement as Johanna and Thom burst in while Eli pulls Katniss’s back against him and reaches for something at their feet.

            Thom’s hands are instantly in the air in front of him and Katniss’s stomach churns when the cool touch of metal meets her throat.

            “Whoa, Eli.” Thom’s baritone voice rumbles as he takes a slow step towards them. “What are you doing, man? Do you think that this is the best way to get what you’re asking for?”

            “Fuck you, man!” Eli shouts, his breath hot against the side of Katniss’s neck, making her flinch. The blade presses harder against her neck when she does. “I want my shit. I didn’t ask for none of this!”

            “Okay.” Thom takes another step forward, “I’ll help you get it, but I can’t do that while you’ve got a knife to a woman’s neck.”

            Eli takes a quick step back, but the pressure of the knife starts to release. Katniss can feel her pulse pounding against the cold metal and tries to take a steady breath. Eli has always liked Thom. She has hope that he can talk some sense into Eli’s detoxing mind.

            “You’ll get what I need?” He asks, the blade loosening further.

            “Yeah.” Thom steps forward again, nodding his head slowly. “You know I will, man. We’re good.”

            “Yeah.” Eli echoes. If he just loosens his grip a little bit more, Katniss will be able to extricate herself from his hold. “You’re sure you ca-“

            He doesn’t get the chance to finish his sentence before three security guards push into the room. All at once, his choke hold tightens again and the blade presses into the delicate skin at Katniss’s throat again.

            “What the fuck, man!” Eli screams, backing himself and Katniss away from Thom while he looks back and forth wildly between the nurse and the security guards carrying restraints.

            “Eli, they’re not going to hurt you if you just work with me.” Thom tries to reason, but Eli’s drug addled mind is too far-gone. The blade begins to pierce the skin at her throat, the chill burning her nerves, eliciting an involuntary whimper from her throat.

            “Nah, man!” Eli spits, “Nah. I got your number now. I want my shit and I want to get the fuck out of here!”

            “Sir, put the knife down!” One of the guards shouts back, but this only serves to agitate the man further.

            “I’ll kill her!” He threatens, his voice hoarse with fear. Katniss’s stomach churns at his words, knowing full well that he means what he’s saying. Like an animal cornered by a predator, she can tell the man is becoming increasingly frantic. People are like animals and they will do stupid, desperate things when they feel threatened.

            The guards start shouting over one another, demanding that Eli put down the knife. Eli spouts off obscenities, telling them what he thinks of their orders. And the knife continues to cut deeper into Katniss’s throat, drawing blood that she can feel leaving a warm trail down her throat.

            “Everyone out.” A familiar voice commands, quickly silencing the room. Peeta steps slowly into the room, his blue eyes blazing with fury as he takes in the scene before him.

            “That’s against protocol, doctor,” one of the guards answers back. “Security is to stay in the room until the situation is resolved.”

            “And as far as I can tell, all you’ve done is make things worse.” Peeta says lowly, his voice a threatening growl. “Now everyone out. I need to talk to the patient alone.”

            Thom glances uncomfortably towards Katniss. “Doc are you sure that’s a goo-“

            “Out!” Peeta shouts, his chest heaving with the effort to control the anger that is clearly boiling just under the surface.

            Johanna and Thom are the last ones to walk reluctantly out of the room, but Katniss is certain they haven’t gone far.

            “You want to shoot up?” Peeta demands harshly, his gaze unwavering as he watches Eli from across the room.

            “Don’t fuck with me man.” Eli hisses, the knife digging into Katniss’s neck.

            “Peeta-“ she gasps, unsure of what else she wants to say; what else could possibly help in this fucked up situation.

            He doesn’t glance her way as he pulls out a small insulin syringe filled with clear liquid. Eli’s breath hitches when he sees it.

            “You let her go and it’s yours. No questions asked.”

            “Drop it on the bed!” Eli shouts, the hand holding the blade against her throat beginning to shake, eliciting another pained whimper from her against her will.

            Peeta does as he says and immediately the blade disappears as the man dives towards the syringe on the bed. Katniss stumbles at first, her head spinning, her mind dazed. A strong arm grabs her wrist and pulls her towards the door into the blindingly white hallway.

            Her ears are ringing and it’s too bright. Shouts echo around her but she can’t make sense of them. She looks up into eyes that are impossibly blue.

            _Peeta_.

            His lips are moving but she can’t understand him. She tries to listen harder, but the ringing in her ears just gets louder. And suddenly the hallway isn’t bright anymore; it’s getting dimmer. Then everything goes dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AN: A bit of a cliff-hanger. Sorry for that! I hope you all enjoyed reading. Please feel free to let me know what you thought. Again thank you for all of your support and patience. I’ve been going through a lot of big life changes so writing has been put on the back burner for a while. I do fully intend to finish all of my stories though.  
> If you’re on tumblr you can look for me at: therebelliondies. Don’t be shy!


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